by Dana Moss
“You don’t want her to see us, is that it?”
Maria offered a tight smile. “Probably for the best, don’t you think?” She glanced at the empty cocktail glasses and started repositioning the open bottles on the coffee table. Taffy wondered why she was lining them up so close to the edge.
Taffy said. “We can keep ourselves busy tomorrow. You don’t need to worry about us running into Veronica.”
“Great. I appreciate that.” Maria nodded once. “Well, I should get going.” She got up, rather clumsily, because she bumped into the coffee table and knocked the open vodka bottle over. Its contents splashed into Macy’s lap, soaking the lower half of her negligee.
“Oh sorry! Here, Macy. Catch.” She tossed the tea towel she’d been holding over to her. Macy caught it in one hand and started dabbing at her crotch.
“Thanks,” Macy said, hiccuping once.
Maria picked up the empty bottle, set it upright on the table, and headed toward the front door.
“Wait, Maria,” Macy said excitedly. “We have news.” Her wet pajamas seemed forgotten, and she beamed with pleasure. “We bought you a wedding dress!”
Maria turned back. “What?” She shot a questioning glance at Taffy.
Cher, perhaps thinking she wanted more of an explanation, supplied it. “You know, the one you liked. From Gabriella’s.”
Taffy watched a series of complicated thoughts and feelings pass over Maria’s face, but she swiftly neutralized them.
“I already have a dress, thanks.”
Macy looked crestfallen. “But Taffy said—”
“Hopefully you’ll be able to get a refund.” Maria left and closed the front door shut behind her.
Taffy took a deep breath and stepped outside after her.
When they were on the front porch alone, Taffy tried to explain. “We just got a little carried away. They were trying to help. One of the other dresses was already sold out so—”
“I don’t want their help. I’m not even sure if I want yours anymore. This is my wedding, remember, not yours. Certainly not theirs. My aunt is shipping my grandmother’s old dress. That’s my decision, Taffy.”
Taffy nodded but felt a little stung. “Sure. Of course it is. No problem. I’ll send this one back. Um. As soon as it gets here.”
“Good.”
Maria started down the steps but before she got back to her car, she turned and said. “I wasn’t going to tell you this until tomorrow, but I think you should know. We found Macy’s fingerprints on the knife.”
“Well why not? For some reason she picked up the knife when she found him like that.”
“So she still claims to not remember anything and insists she didn’t do it?”
“I believe her, Maria. She’s not capable of that kind of thing.”
Maria nodded but not as if she believed Taffy. It was more like she was just checking to see where Taffy stood in all this. And no doubt Maria read Taffy’s position correctly: she still felt loyal to her friends.
“You should know that Macy’s were the only fingerprints we found.” Maria paused and then added. “And the new medical examiner—Eve—has deduced that the knife cuts were made by a left-handed attacker.”
“That still doesn’t necessarily mean she—”
“I noticed tonight that Macy is left-handed.”
Taffy’s mind spun. She blinked. The tipped bottle. The tossed towel.
“I’m going to arrange for our psychologist, Tessa, to conduct a hypnosis session with Macy. See if we can help jog her blocked memory. Between now and then, keep an eye on her.” Maria opened the door to her car. “And you might want to keep your knives out of reach.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, through the haze of a hangover, Taffy made coffee and started cleaning up while Macy and Cher slept in. The night before, they’d tried to talk Taffy into driving around town the next day to spy on Blake’s ex, but Taffy convinced them that wouldn’t be a good idea. She said she’d take them up to the candy factory instead. They were only mildly appeased by this plan.
They had finally gone to bed, having exhausted Taffy’s emotions and patience, at which point she had tracked down Midnight, put him outside, and blocked up his cat door. He’d trotted off in a huff. She’d have to take him back to Ethan’s in the morning.
But now that it was morning, there was no sign of him. Taffy surveyed the mess they had made the night before. Besides the empty glasses strewn about, there were various items of clothing, lingerie, and jewelry pulled from Taffy’s closet, magazines, empty bowls of snacks, mismatched shoes, and one sparkling diamond tiara hanging from a lampshade. Taffy tucked it back into its velvet box, made herself a cup of coffee, and then rolled up her sleeves to try to battle the surrounding chaos into some semblance of order.
All night she’d been worried about what Maria had said about the fingerprints and the knife cuts. She hadn’t mentioned those extra details to Macy and Cher though, as she was afraid that might push them a little too far over the edge. She told herself it wasn’t unheard of for a witness to pick up a murder weapon after finding the body. And there must be plenty of people who were left-handed… Taffy just had to find them.
But what if she was wrong about Macy? All this time she simply couldn’t believe it was possible—that someone she knew so well, a friend from high school, could kill in cold blood. But how well did she really know Macy?
In high school, Macy had excelled in drama. They’d met in freshman drama class. Cher had been there, too, though always more interested in behind-the-scenes work rather than stage roles. That had been Macy’s and Taffy’s department. Back then, Macy could charm her way into and out of almost any situation. And Taffy supposed she’d only gotten more adept at that as the years passed. She thought of Macy as a good person, perhaps a little opportunistic, definitely rather ditzy, but not out to do harm.
But was Taffy’s inability to believe that Macy could, even possibly, be guilty of such a crime in part because she couldn’t stomach the thought that a murderer could land so close to home, so close as to be living in her home? Ethan had joked about the blind leading the blind, but had Taffy been choosing to be blind to some of the facts of the situation? Macy needed money, she’d hooked up with a millionaire, and now he was dead. Very soon after they’d had sex, apparently. Taffy had to ask herself whether she was more committed to proving Macy didn’t kill Blake or finding out who really did. Until now she’d thought those two goals were one and the same. But what if they weren’t? That’s what Maria had really been trying to say.
She had also told Taffy to back off from the case, but how could she? It would take all of her inner reserves to not stalk Blake’s ex, Veronica Reese, but she was going to do her best to honor her promise to Maria about keeping a distance.
As Taffy picked up cocktail glasses and marshmallow bits, she found herself wondering why Lorne and Anya hadn’t mentioned Blake’s ex-wife the day before. Surely they must have known her, or known of her. Taffy made a mental note to talk to them again.
Halfway through filling the dishwasher, her phone rang. She was surprised when she recognized the number on the call display.
“Luke?”
“Hey Taffy, how’s the sweetest girl on earth?”
Under her breath, even though no one else was awake, she said, “Why are you calling me?”
“I heard from Kyla that Macy and Cher were in trouble. Is there anything I can do?”
“Kyla told you to call me?”
“I ran into her the other day at a fundraiser for the MoMA, and then Cher called me yesterday and told me they were staying with you, so, you know… I thought I’d call. Moral support and all.”
There was a pause. She was surprised that it felt good to hear Luke’s voice. She wanted him to keep talking, but she thought it best to stay on topic, to not get too personal.
“It’s not a good situation. They’re staying with me until things get sorted out. Macy won’t get
a lawyer.”
“I could call my cousin if she wants me to.”
Taffy smiled, remembering how thoughtful Luke could be about some things and how completely clueless about others.
“I have to tell you, Luke… Just to be upfront.” Seems she couldn’t stop herself from being personal. Oh well. She cleared her throat. “I’m seeing someone now.”
“Oh sure. Right. Cher told me.”
“She did? It’s serious.” Cher wouldn’t have said it that way.
He paused a moment. “Sure. We’re still friends though, right?”
“Yeah, of course.” She sighed. “Still friends.”
“So whenever you’re back in New York, you’ll give me a call?”
“Okay.” She smiled, even though he couldn’t see her, which was maybe a good thing.
“And if I’m ever out your way, I’ll look you up.”
She laughed. “Why would you ever be out my way?”
“Oh, you never know. Stranger things have happened.”
Since Macy and Cher were now murder suspects, she had to agree.
Luke chatted on. “I saw your grandmother the other day having brunch at Balthazar.”
“Did you?” Taffy settled into a chair and sipped her coffee.
“We had a nice talk. She asked how my grandparents were getting along at their villa in Spain. I told her they’d bought a second one and the whole family was going down for Christmas this year.”
Taffy had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Luke. But that ease of feeling raised a red flag for her, and after a few minutes she realized she’d better wind up the conversation.
“Thanks for the moral support, Luke. For being a friend.” She lightly emphasized the word friend. “I’ve gotta go now.”
“Sure,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s talk again soon. Call me, you know, if there’s anything you need.”
She couldn’t imagine what that might be, but she thanked him anyway.
As Taffy set down her phone, Cher shuffled into the kitchen. “Who were you talking to?” She sneezed.
“No one.” Taffy stood up and started clearing up more glasses.
Cher followed her. “You don’t need to keep it a secret. You’re practically glowing. It had to be a guy.”
She tore off a paper towel and blew her nose.
Taffy shrugged. “It was just Ethan.”
Cher raised an eyebrow. “So why did you call him ‘no one’ at first?”
Taffy blushed.
“You know, Taffy, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
Cher grinned at that. “Oh, I think I can keep secrets of the heart better than you can. Come on, who was it?”
She had cornered Taffy near the custom coffee contraption Ethan had built for Taffy and helped herself to a mug. She’d quickly converted to the tasty brew. At least Taffy wouldn’t have to drive them to the local coffee shop for lattes every day.
“If you must know, it was Luke.”
Cher’s grin widened, but before she could say something teasing, Taffy said, “He just called because he’s worried about you guys. He said if Macy needs a lawyer he could call his cousin.”
Cher added a dollop of cream to her coffee. “That’s not such a bad idea. You should call him back and tell him that. If you need an excuse to call again.” She winked.
Taffy ignored the teasing and started filling the dishwasher with the last of the glasses. “You do know this isn’t looking good for Macy so far, right?”
Cher nodded and sighed heavily. “None of this was supposed to happen.”
Her mood seemed uncharacteristically serious for once, and Taffy made the most of it, choosing to tell Cher what Maria had told her last night about Macy’s being the only fingerprints on the knife and the left-handed cuts.
Taffy finally asked her, “Are you sure absolutely sure Macy didn’t do this?
Cher’s gaze flicked to her. “Of course I am. It wasn’t her. And lots of people are left-handed.”
But how many of them had access to the boat? Taffy wondered.
“She says she doesn’t remember any of it. What if she did it in a fit of passion?”
Cher shook her head and then ran a hand through her morning-mussed hair. Her cute pixie cut was in need of a trim.
“Macy is squeamish about blood. Last year she insisted I go with her to the clinic to get a blood test when she thought she had an STD by that poker player dude she was dating.” Cher sighed with disgust. “She really can pick ’em. But the point being, she practically fainted that day. She’d never use a knife to hurt someone. And I was practically right behind her. I don’t see how she would have had time to hurt him like that. There weren’t many minutes between us climbing back onto the boat from swimming and her starting to scream.”
“So, like me, you think it must have been someone else?”
She nodded.
Taffy thought for a moment. “Could it have been Lorne?”
Cher’s eyes seemed to brighten. “He’s the most logical suspect. He was on the boat when we weren’t. He claims he saw Macy, but that’s just his word against hers. He might just be covering his own tracks.”
“The fingerprints?”
“What if he wore gloves? That’s what murderers do, don’t they?”
Taffy drummed her fingers on the sticky counter.
“Who else would have had access to the knives?”
“Anyone on board could have opened the drawer. Anya, the chef, handled them the most because she did the cooking.”
“But she wasn’t on the boat. And what would she have against Blake?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. She’s actually really nice.”
“Can you think of anyone else capable of that kind of violence?”
“Just Lorne. Must have been him.”
Cher got up and opened the fridge. “Have any croissants or sesame-seed bagels?”
Had Cher already lost interest?
Pulling her head out of the fridge and registering Taffy’s look of consternation, Cher said soothingly, “The police will figure it out. That’s their job isn’t it? And you’re helping them. So everything will be okay, just like you said.” She looked around the kitchen. “What about some French baguette?” She sneezed again.
Taffy looked around and saw Midnight cleaning his paws by the kitchen door leading to the foyer.
“How did you get back in?” she said.
Cher saw him, too, and said, “Get that demon away from me.” She started backing away and nearly tripped over the trash bag Taffy had been filling. “My allergies will make my eyes all puffy, Taff. I’ll look horrible. Can’t you get rid of him?”
Taffy sighed. “I’ll take him back over to Ethan’s… I’ve got to go out to run a few errands. I forgot to drop off the cat food at Ethan’s yesterday. I’ll take Midnight over there again, and then I’ll pick up some pastries while I’m out. When I get back, when Macy’s up and ready, I’ll take you guys over the candy factory.”
Cher unpeeled some marshmallow stuck to the counter and stuck it in her mouth. “Sure. Sounds fun.”
Taffy didn’t think Cher was as good a liar as she thought she was.
Cher took her coffee cup with her and, giving Midnight a wide berth, she headed back upstairs, saying, “I’ll go take a shower.”
Taffy scooped up Midnight. Again. This time he purred in her arms.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Taffy had to hang onto an anxious Midnight while she put up the car’s convertible top. During the short ride to Ethan’s house, Midnight managed to scratch up Taffy’s leather seats in four places. “Never again without the cat carrier,” she grumbled as she carried him, nervously puffy-haired, into Ethan’s kitchen.
Ethan had already left for work. She saw that he’d opened the fold-out couch in the den and laid out fresh sheets. As she set Midnight down, she hoped his cousin wasn’t allergic to cats, too.
“Stay here,” sh
e said to Midnight. “You can come home after I get this case sorted out.” Midnight hopped onto the fold-out couch and curled up for a nap.
* * *
After visiting the bakery to pick up pastries, Taffy couldn’t resist stopping by the station for a second, just to see how Maria was doing and to let her know Cher’s thoughts about the knife and fingerprints.
When Maria saw Taffy approaching, she anxiously looked past her.
“Don’t worry, they’re still at home.”
“Sleeping it off?” Maria joked but still looked relieved. Then she glanced at her watch. “I’m expecting Veronica Reese soon.”
“Does it matter if I’m here? I thought it was Macy you were worried about her seeing.”
“From what Chief Green said, she’s on the hunt for any misconduct. She likes to sue people apparently. And, you know, we’re friends and all but not…”
Taffy nodded. “Right, I’m not legitimate police help. I get it. But you have to admit I’m helpful, right?” She offered a charming smile. And then she got down to her reason for stopping by, but Maria just shook her head.
“It’s real evidence I have to consider, not conjecture.”
“But anybody could have wielded that knife. What about the chef? What was her name? Not Mary Ann… Anya.”
“Anya Kolya? Her fingerprints weren’t on the knife. She said it had been cleaned and put away in the galley’s knife drawer after the afternoon tidy up. And Macy’s prints were also on the knife drawer. After the cleanup.”
“Macy told me she cut up some watermelon as a snack that night. She swears she didn’t touch Blake with a knife, and Cher swears she’s squeamish about blood. She faints at the sight of it.”
“She didn’t faint that night.”
“But she’s lost part of her memory because of the shock.”
“So she says.”
“Why would she lie about that?”
Maria raised an eyebrow as if that was obvious, but Taffy was on a new track, even if she might be grasping at straws. “What I was thinking is, what if she saw the real killer and just doesn’t remember?”
Maria sighed impatiently. “I suppose it’s possible, and I’ve put a call into Tessa about a hypnosis appointment, but…” Maria opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a small hard drive. “I received some other evidence this morning.”