The Diva Sweetens the Pie

by Krista Davis

  Dear Sophie,

  I watched a pie show on TV the other day and the baker froze the flour! Isn’t that overkill?

  Keeping It Simple in Icedale, Pennsylvania

  Dear Keeping It Simple,

  Some bakers do refrigerate or freeze their flour. And their bowls and utensils, too!

  Sophie

  Daisy and I returned to the scene of the crime that evening, a little bit earlier than the time it had happened. We began behind Alex’s office, where the burned-out windows were a grim reminder of the horrible event. I didn’t let Daisy go close, for fear of broken glass on the ground. Smoke had curled up the redbrick walls, leaving them black with soot.

  A lone fireman studied the back of the building.

  “Hi,” I said. “It’s quite a mess.”

  The fireman looked over at me. “Don’t come any closer, please. Are you the girlfriend or the assistant?”

  “The girlfriend. How did you know?”

  “You’re not old enough to be Alex’s mom, so that leaves the girlfriend, the assistant, or the perpetrator. No one else would be interested in coming back here.”

  He ran a sturdy hand through short blond hair that was graying. “It was brave of you to enter the building and rescue Alex.”

  “It wasn’t burning then. The perpetrator had just started the fire in the back room and left. I heard the door close.”

  He looked at the door. “This one?”

  “I assume so. I don’t think there are any other doors back here. It was his only way out without passing by me. So how do you figure out who set the fire?”

  “Mostly by interviewing people like you. No one came to talk with you yet?”

  “No. But I’ve been out a lot. If I knew who did it, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be hounding the police.”

  He picked his way over to me and held out his hand to shake. “Harry Gibbard.”

  “You have to be kidding. You Gibbards are everywhere. Sophie Winston.”

  “And who is this?”

  “Daisy.” She lifted her paw as though she expected him to shake it, which he did.

  “Very nice manners, Daisy.”

  “I was just talking to Honey this morning,” I said.

  He grinned. “My partner in crime.”

  “Oh?”

  “In a manner of speaking. As the first two kids we were often in mischief together. Plus we were the only ones who were adopted. Don’t get me wrong, the Gibbards treated us all alike, but Honey and I had a special bond because of it. We related in a way that the other kids didn’t really understand.”

  “I’m sorry about Grainger’s death.”

  Harry nodded. “Thanks. I don’t know if my mom will ever get over losing him. Any of us kids. We’re her life.”

  “I heard he was a good guy.”

  “Grainger? Yeah, I guess so. The two of us got into it over a girl when we were young. We got along after that, but I think we both saw the flip side of each other’s personalities.”

  “Who got the girl?”

  “Grainger did. He was tenacious. Exactly like our dad, he was stubborn and strong-willed. Heaven help us all when those two butted heads. And then the girl went off and married someone else, so we both lost in the end and the whole argument was for naught.”

  “Harry, do you think someone else might have murdered Grainger?” I asked.

  He appeared to be surprised by my question. “They nailed Nellie. The lesson of that story is, if you’re going to murder your fiancé, you shouldn’t bake him a pie using rhubarb from your ex-husband’s garden.” He patted Daisy’s head. “Could I buy you two an ice cream?”

  “Sure. We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Daisy?”

  The three of us rounded the corner to a restaurant that sold ice cream to passersby through a window.

  Harry handed me a Hound Dog Delight cone for Daisy and a pecan praline cone for me. Harry went for triple chocolate with chips in it.

  We strolled over to a bench that faced the marred building. I noted with some irony that the brass sign on the wall with Alex’s name was still there, only it was black now.

  “Would you mind telling me exactly what happened?” asked Harry.

  I filled him in on all the details. “I never saw the guy. I was concentrating on Alex, and then Wong arrived and spotted the flames. It was all we could do to drag Alex out of the building.”

  “You’re sure Alex never mentioned a client who might have been a headache? Or maybe he lost a case and felt terrible about it?”

  “You don’t know Alex, do you? The most closemouthed man you’re ever likely to meet. He took a lot of pride in being a lawyer and keeping his clients’ secrets safe.”

  “You were walking Daisy around here before you saw the hand in the window?”

  “Right. That’s why I came back today. I was hoping some people might walk by who would have seen something. You know, someone who goes this way every night.”

  “It was a good thought. But I suspect you might know more than you realize.”

  “I wish I did, Harry.”

  Before Daisy and I left, I gave him my phone number. “Thanks for the ice cream. If there’s any way I can help, I hope you’ll give me a call.”

  Harry tucked the slip of paper into a breast pocket.

  Daisy and I walked away, but when I looked back, Harry was still sitting on the bench, staring at Alex’s building. I was glad to know that someone else was thinking about who the perpetrator might be.

  On the way home I considered what Harry had said. But no matter how I wracked my brain, I knew that Alex hadn’t talked about his clients. He hadn’t mentioned them by name, nor had he told me about their legal issues.

  It wasn’t until I stuck the key in my door that I realized Alex might have let on about something after all, and I had been too obtuse to see it.

  Chapter 29

  Dear Sophie,

  I struggle with pie dough every time I make it. Is there anything I can do when it isn’t working?

  Hopeless in Cold Fork, California

  Dear Hopeless,

  If the pie dough is too stiff, you can try adding a few drops of ice water. If it’s too soft, try refrigerating it for a half hour or more.

  Sophie

  Alex hadn’t disguised his dismay at my poking around in the case of the Grainger murder. He had come right out and said I could damage his reputation. At the time I thought he was worried because I was looking into a case that had been closed. But now I wondered if it could possibly have been the case of Grainger’s murder specifically that he wanted me to stay away from. Did he know something about it?

  I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. “Oh, my gosh!” I yelped. Alex had warned me that if Nellie was innocent, it meant the real killer was still on the loose and might stop at nothing to hide his guilt. I had even told his assistant as much, without understanding Alex’s complete meaning.

  My knees quaking, I locked the front door, then dashed into the kitchen, where I sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace.

  What had I done? It was my fault that Alex was in the hospital. It was my fault that someone had tried to kill Alex and destroy his files so the truth wouldn’t come out. It was all my fault.

  A whimpering sound brought me out of my train of thought. Daisy was dragging her leash behind her. “Poor Daisy. I’m sorry that I forgot to take off your halter.”

  Mochie jumped up on the chair and pawed me. “I forgot about you, too.” I listened to his contented purr while I stroked him.

  But that didn’t prevent my thoughts from wandering back to Alex. He had tried to make me back off. He had tried to warn me. And now it was Alex who was paying the price for my nosiness. I would never be able to forgive myself.

  I sat in my kitchen for a long time, feeling miserable and guilty. I kept coming to the same conclusion. I couldn’t go back in time and do things differently. Nor could I heal Alex, but I could find the person who did this to him. A
nd in doing so, I might just find the person who murdered Grainger.

  I phoned Bernie, Mars, and Nina, who agreed to come over. Before they arrived, I reviewed the transcript of the trial that Aly had left with us. I was scanning fast, but there was simply no mention of Alex’s name at all. I hadn’t imagined that or overlooked it.

  I stacked the papers, put on the kettle, and pulled the s’mores pie out of the fridge. In the dining room I opened the liquor cabinet and found marshmallow vodka and chocolate liqueur. If I knew Nina, she would want a drink, and a s’mores cocktail sounded just right.

  Bernie, Mars, and Nina arrived simultaneously.

  I pointed Nina to the liqueurs and made tea for Bernie and me.

  “So what’s up?” asked Mars as we settled at the table in my kitchen.

  I cut the pie while I told them that the attack on Alex was probably my fault. “He tried to warn me, but at the time, I thought he was stating the obvious. I didn’t realize that he was warning me because he knew something.”

  Mars sipped his s’mores cocktail. “Sophie, you’re overreacting. You just admitted that Alex wasn’t involved in Grainger’s case at all.”

  “Do you really think it was just a coincidence that someone attacked Alex only days after Patsy Lee’s death and at the time when we started poking around in Grainger’s murder?” I handed everyone a piece of pie.

  “Yeah. I think exactly that. Not everything is about you or because of you, Sophie.” Mars dug a fork into his pie.

  “What about you two?” I asked Nina and Bernie.

  “First it’s important to note that this pie is fun,” said Nina. “I do agree that it’s entirely possible that the attack on Alex had nothing to do with the people of the pie. He has a lot of clients and there’s no telling who was angry with him. In fact, the field of suspects is even bigger than his client list because, as in Honey Armbruster’s situation, the person who was angry with him might have been the person on the other side of the case. It could have been anyone.”

  Bernie had been eating quietly and sipping his tea. “Perhaps the wisest course of action here is to examine Patsy Lee’s murder and Grainger’s murder because they appear to involve the same group of people. If Sophie is correct about the attack on Alex, then narrowing down the suspects in the two killings might lead us to the person who attacked Alex.”

  I couldn’t help flashing Bernie a smile. He was so logical.

  Mars nodded and pulled his list out of his pocket. “Okay then, let’s review what we know for sure. Tommy Earl?”

  “He’s too nice a guy,” said Nina.

  I sipped my tea. “You have to include him. He told me Grainger stole a TV-show idea from him. I would say he might have been a little bit bitter about Patsy Lee’s success, but he wasn’t furious with her like Roger.”

  Mars made a note and said, “Roger?”

  “He claims Patsy Lee stole his recipes and his meemaw story,” I said.

  “Seriously?” asked Mars. “Come on, Sophie. Who would murder over something like that?”

  “Don’t forget that he was Patsy Lee’s secret beau. He might have blown a gasket when he found out that she spent the night with Peter.”

  Mars nodded reluctantly.

  “Roger told me that all they have is their reputations, and once that’s gone, they’re finished,” I said.

  “That’s true in a lot of professions,” said Mars.

  “Especially in the restaurant world.” Bernie set his fork down. “I’ve steered clear of hiring Tommy Earl because of his reputation for drinking. I can’t deal with someone who is unreliable or drunk on the job.”

  “That came as a surprise to me,” I said. “I have hired Tommy Earl to bake pies for several events. I’ve never had a problem. He always comes through on time with perfect pies.”

  “Makes a person wonder where that rumor started,” said Nina. “I’ve never known him to drink. But there’s something about Roger that gives me the willies. Does anyone else feel that way?”

  “He spooked me a little bit when he was so angry with Patsy Lee, even after her death,” I said. “Of course, everyone gets angry, and if Patsy Lee stepped on him the way he claimed, then maybe that festered into a rage.”

  “What about Willa?” asked Mars.

  Bernie wasted no time speaking up. “I can vouch for Willa. She’s a great employee, an excellent pastry chef, and a genuinely nice person.”

  Nina glanced at him. “She and Patsy Lee were best friends until Patsy Lee fired her. I’d have been mad, too. Can you imagine packing up and moving, leaving your home and your life, to work for a friend and then being kicked out the door a few months later?”

  “That would be a rotten thing to do to anyone, not to mention a good friend.” Bernie grimaced. “But I don’t see Willa murdering a friend over something like that. Besides, she’s back up on her feet. What reason would she have to murder Patsy Lee now?”

  I gasped. “What with Alex’s condition, I forgot all about it. Last night when I walked back from Alex’s office, I saw Peter and Willa kissing in a passionate manner at your rental house.”

  “Willa is in love with Peter?” Nina’s eyes grew large. “That changes everything. If she knew that Patsy Lee spent the night with Peter, she might have been wildly jealous.”

  Bernie groaned. “Not Willa. How could she get involved with a guy like Peter, who is completely devoid of ethics?”

  “Peter rises to the top of the suspect list,” said Mars.

  “Patsy Lee gave him the heave-ho and from what I gather he lost just about everything,” said Nina.

  “Any chance Alex represented Patsy Lee?” asked Bernie.

  “This is what we get for being honest and not hacking into his files,” I grumbled.

  “Did Peter have a motive to knock off Grainger?” asked Nina.

  “Could he have been involved in the TV show that Grainger allegedly stole from Tommy Earl?” I asked.

  “Willa might have helped him,” suggested Nina. “Maybe he beat up Alex while she set the fire?”

  “That’s wild speculation.” Bernie clearly wasn’t pleased. “What we do know is that they appear to be in a relationship. That doesn’t mean they teamed up to kill anyone. And sorry, Sophie, but the TV show idea is also mere speculation.”

  “I have my doubts about Peter because I’m not sure he can bake,” mused Nina. “Might Willa have baked a poisonous pie for Peter, even back then?”

  “Or Patsy Lee for that matter,” Bernie added.

  “What if Patsy Lee threatened to expose Peter’s slimy tactics, and that’s why he killed her?” I sipped my tea and added, “And somehow Alex knew about it.”

  “We have to add two more names to the list,” Mars said. “Honey Armbruster and Remy Tarwick.”

  “What is this obsession with my employees?” Bernie shook his head. “Remy was fired from Star-Spangled Pies. I’ll come right out and admit it. But it was because he defended a female customer whose boyfriend wouldn’t let her eat. Weird, huh? Apparently, he was obsessed with her weight. He was belittling her and allowing her only two forkfuls of food to eat. Remy was waiting on their table and finally intervened, which resulted in a brawl on the sidewalk. Obviously, one can’t have that kind of behavior. I have been very clear with him about that. But I understand why he tried to help that woman.”

  “That doesn’t mean Remy didn’t go back and get into a fight with Grainger,” said Mars.

  “Think he went home and baked a poisonous rhubarb pie first?” asked Bernie.

  “Good point. Though I hear anyone can bake a pie if they try. Still, I agree with you, highly unlikely. That leaves Honey, who we know for sure can bake a great pie,” said Nina.

  “Maybe she was chasing Grainger?” suggested Mars.

  “I don’t think so,” I said wryly. “They’re siblings.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Mars.

  “Confirmed this afternoon by her brother. Honey loathes Alex, but we all know she was obsesse
d with Patsy Lee, so while she certainly could bake a great pie, I would have to say she’s low on the list of suspects. I guess we need to include her, just in case.”

  “So what now?” asked Nina. “How do we confirm that it’s Peter?”

  “Hmm, what would you do now if you were Peter?” I asked. “I’d get out of town while the gettin’ was good, but then, I wouldn’t have murdered anyone, either.”

  “I’ll talk to Willa when she comes in tomorrow morning,” Bernie volunteered.

  “Discreetly!” Nina reminded him.

  “Of course. Is there any other way?”

  “I have Brock on this list,” said Mars. “Can I scratch him off?”

  “As far as I know, his only connection is to Patsy Lee. I don’t think he was around here five years ago when Grainger was murdered,” I said.

  Mars crossed his name off the list. “Willa is our best bet for information, Bernie.”

  “I’m on it.”

  I cleaned up the kitchen after they left, feeling just a tiny bit better. Maybe we were finally on the right track.

  But I was wide-awake and the last thing I wanted to do was toss in bed.

  Mochie and Daisy were napping, so I grabbed my laptop, hopped in my car, and drove to the hospital.

  A police officer, whom I recognized, sat outside Alex’s room. He waved me in.

  Alex lay still as death. The monitor on a screen to his right showed his heartbeat. It looked even to me, but what did I know?

  I lay my bag on a bedside table that was loaded with flower arrangements. I poked through the blooms to find the cards from his colleagues and friends, which I read aloud to him. “You’re very much beloved, Alex.” I read them out loud a second time in case somewhere, deep down in his brain, he could comprehend what I was saying.

  I sat down and took his hand into mine. “I’m so sorry, Alex. Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you know I’m here.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Alex, I’m so worried that I inadvertently caused this. You tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen and now you’re the one paying for it. Honey, you have to come around and tell us who it was. Was it a client? Was it another attorney?”