The Diva Sweetens the Pie

by Krista Davis

  “We’ve been trying to reach his assistant but so far we haven’t had any luck. Do you know of a way to get his client list?” asked Wolf.

  “Maybe.”

  Wolf gazed at me questioningly. “Show me.”

  I hurried into my house for my purse while Mars escorted Natasha outside.

  On my return Natasha was explaining how she had found the vial of white powder.

  Wolf thanked her and said he might need to contact her with further questions.

  Natasha beamed as though she had just won a pie competition.

  “Will you watch Daisy?” I asked Mars. “I’m going to show Wolf something.”

  Mars frowned at me, and I knew he wanted to come with us.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I assured him.

  Wolf shot me an awkward look. “Where are we going?”

  “To Alex’s house.”

  For a long moment he was silent. “I, um . . . We shouldn’t be seen . . .”

  I smiled. His wife was sensitive about the fact that Wolf and I had dated. “No problem. You drive over, and I’ll meet you there. Nina can probably come with us.” I gave him Alex’s address and walked to Nina’s house.

  She was fully dressed and on her way out when I arrived at her door.

  “Where are you off to?” I asked.

  “Your house. What’s going on over there?”

  I told her the whole story about Natasha, Peter, and Willa as we walked to Alex’s place.

  Wolf was waiting for us when we got there. He handed Nina a bag of croissants and a cup of coffee. “Heard you didn’t get breakfast at Sophie’s this morning, either.”

  I laughed at them, stole a croissant from the bag, and unlocked Alex’s front door.

  The three of us trooped up the stairs to the home office. I pulled the password book out of the drawer where I’d left it and switched on the computer. In no time I opened the Office file, entered a second password, and found a complete list of Alex’s clients.

  “It worries me that I think you’ve done this before,” grumbled Wolf.

  I kept quiet and neither admitted nor denied that I had poked around previously in Alex’s private files.

  “So you think I’m right?” I asked. “It was probably an irate client?”

  “Someone sure wanted him out of the way.”

  I printed off Alex’s calendar for the year, too.

  Wolf examined the pages as they churned out of the computer. “Interesting information here.”

  “Have you talked to Alex’s assistant?” asked Nina.

  “Can’t find her,” said Wolf.

  Nina and I gasped at the same time.

  “She went missing?” asked Nina in between bites of croissant.

  Wolf shook his head, but kept his eyes on Alex’s schedule. “No one has reported her missing. But we haven’t been able to reach her.”

  “She’s scared.” I turned off the computer. “Alex told me if Nellie didn’t murder Grainger, then there was a killer on the loose who would do anything to hide the truth. I told his assistant the same sort of thing. She needs to be careful. Whoever did this to Alex was the worst kind of human being imaginable. He would think nothing of hurting her, too.”

  “Wish you hadn’t told her that.” Wolf grunted. “She probably has a better idea than anyone but Alex of who might want him dead.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “Are his folks here yet? Have you talked to them?”

  “I have spoken to them. They’re in touch with his doctor. They were out in Idaho in their recreational vehicle when Alex was attacked. They thought the fastest way back would be to fly, so they booked the next flight out, which was the following day. But when they arrived, the airport had closed due to an encroaching forest fire. Their only choice was to drive south, significantly out of their way to avoid the fire, so they’ve been delayed in getting here.”

  “They must be sick with worry,” I said. “I’ll go over there and sit with him for a while today if the nurses let me.”

  “I’m going to take the vial straight back to forensics. Never thought I’d say this, but thanks to Natasha, we may be able to wrap up the investigation of Patsy Lee’s murder.”

  While I locked the door, Wolf drove away.

  “It was thoughtful of him to bring me breakfast,” said Nina.

  “Thanks for coming over here with me. He’s still sensitive about being seen alone with me.”

  “He always will be,” said Nina. “You’re such a dangerous and wicked woman.”

  We couldn’t help giggling a little bit.

  “So”—I said as we walked home—“if Willa and Peter murdered Patsy Lee, then who murdered Grainger?”

  The words were barely out of my mouth when someone shouted my name.

  “Sophie!”

  “Don’t look now, but it’s Peter,” Nina whispered. “Think we can pretend we didn’t hear him?”

  Of course, I had to look. He waved us over to a restaurant where he was seated at an outdoor table.

  “What do we do?” asked Nina.

  I squinted at a guy in a baseball cap eating breakfast not too far away from Peter. “Play it cool. There’s a cop watching him. Pretend you know nothing, maybe we can learn something. Do not mention that vial!”

  “I can do that. Hi, Peter!” she called in a melodious voice.

  “Won’t you ladies join me?” he asked.

  “We had an early breakfast,” I said. “But thank you for the invitation.”

  “Well then, how about keeping me company while I eat?”

  I was pretty sure that I stopped breathing for a moment. But we were outdoors and there was a cop only a few tables away. What was Peter going to do? Stab us with a butter knife? “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  Nina and I skirted the little fence around the tables and joined him.

  “I’ll be leaving Old Town fairly soon.” Peter picked up a slice of bacon and noshed on it. “Sure you don’t want some? Nothing is better than good bacon.”

  We declined.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Natasha,” I said, enjoying the soft breeze.

  His beefy face turned the color of the meat in his bacon. “She sure taught me a lesson. You know, when I met Patsy Lee, she had a warmth that everybody wanted to be around, including me. I should have known something was off when I didn’t see that in Natasha. Turned out the network liked the show, anyway, but I believe I’ll steer clear of pigheaded people like her.”

  He took a big bite of ham. “I feel like a heel eating in front of you ladies. You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

  “We’ve had breakfast,” Nina said in a hurry. She held up the bag she’d been carrying.

  “Well, I tell ya, I’m gonna miss Patsy Lee somethin’ fierce.”

  “But you divorced her,” Nina blurted.

  “That was Patsy Lee’s doin’. She got to thinkin’ I was just a country fellow who couldn’t hold my own with the city slickers. We didn’t end well, did we? But we had a great time on the road there. Nobody else has ever made me laugh as hard or feel as loved. Don’t suppose anyone ever will. For a while there Patsy Lee and I had something special. Not everybody gets to experience that.” Peter gulped coffee and swiped his mouth with a napkin.

  He spoke about her so lovingly, it was hard to imagine that he had poisoned her.

  “Rumor has it that you two had a fight the night before she died.” Nina said it sweet as honey, like she was totally innocent and making conversation, but I nearly panicked. What did she think she was doing?

  “Is that why the cops are on me like fleas on a dog?” He looked past us and raised his coffee cup as though he was toasting someone.

  Nina and I turned around. The plainclothes cop wiggled his fingers at us and continued eating his breakfast.

  “I have come to recognize,” said Peter, “that memories are a lot like photographs. You ditch the lousy ones, get rid of everything that is out of focus, and in the end you
keep the ones that were the way you wanted them to be. Patsy Lee and I had a little discussion that night about how she made it to the top, but it wasn’t worth remembering.”

  I played dumb. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  Peter wiped his mouth again and sat back in his chair. “You got to psych out your competition. Make ’em worry about somethin’ else so their minds aren’t focused on baking. Haven’t you seen shows where a really great chef gets the boot because he forgot to use an ingredient? Or something slowed him down and he didn’t get the food on the plates on time?” Peter laughed. “Makes for excitement on the show.”

  I tried to sound clueless in the hope that he would tell us more. “Those aren’t just glitches?”

  “Not all the time.”

  “It seems kind of underhanded,” said Nina.

  “Patsy Lee didn’t think so when she was a nobody, but seeing her old pals made her feel guilty. Especially about Nellie.”

  Nina and I shared a look. Was he about to confess? Why didn’t I have a recorder with me? Did my phone have one? There wasn’t any time to find out now.

  Chapter 34

  Dear Natasha,

  Why does my pie dough crack? It’s so frustrating. Can I patch it or do I have to start over?

  Breaking Up in Coffee, California

  Dear Breaking Up,

  You need to add liquid to your dough. Not much, though—only drops. You can patch it by moistening your fingers and sprinkling with a teeny bit of flour.

  Natasha

  “Now hold on there. Don’t go jumping to conclusions.” Peter’s eyebrows dipped in dismay. “I may have pulled a few stunts. Everybody does. I’m not proud of everything I did to get Patsy Lee to the top. Did you think all those stars get there by being sweet and lettin’ people walk all over them? You got to be tough. You got to use everything you have to move up in this world. But, ladies, I have never murdered anyone.”

  “That’s a relief,” I said, not believing him. “But then why would Patsy Lee feel bad about Nellie?”

  Peter pulled out his wallet and handed the waitress his credit card. “I don’t believe I’ll use that tactic again. It seemed clever at the time, but it went too far.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I pushed him a little by asking, “Did it involve Grainger?”

  “Naw. Honey, it doesn’t matter now, anyway. Everybody has moved on. It’s time I did.”

  “I heard Grainger was planning a TV show about his restaurant. Were you involved with that?” I asked. “It sounds like something right up your alley.”

  “A clever deduction, Miss Sophie. I was shocked when Grainger was killed. Whoever murdered him axed the show, too. Would have been a huge success with that loony old man shouting at everybody. Huge. Has Tommy Earl told you the good news?”

  “No,” we chimed.

  The waitress returned with a charge slip for him to sign. I noticed that he added a very generous tip.

  “The next time you hear Tommy Earl’s name, he’ll be on his way to fame and fortune.”

  “You’re taking him on as a client?” I asked.

  “But what about his bakery?” whined Nina.

  “The bakery will continue, sugar pie, don’t you worry about that. I signed him as a client right after the bake-off.” Peter rose to his feet. “It’s been delightful meetin’ you, ladies.” He eyed me for a moment. “Sophie, darlin’, you have a little bit of Patsy Lee’s charm. If you ever decide to make the move to superstar cook, you give me a call.” He handed me his card and left the table.

  “Do it!” Nina screeched.

  “Nina,” I whispered, “the man is a murderer and a cheat.”

  “Too bad. I could have been your sidekick. We could have bought side-by-side beach mansions.”

  I elbowed her and pointed discreetly. The cop had left and was casually ambling along behind Peter.

  “Wolf obviously put a tail on him. It’s just a matter of time before they arrest him.”

  We left the table and headed home.

  “Do you think Peter murdered Grainger?” I asked. “Grainger’s brother told me he had a hot temper. Maybe two hotheaded bullies faced off alone in the middle of the night.”

  “What about the poisonous rhubarb pie?” asked Nina.

  “You could bake one.”

  “Excuse me? I believe you saw my mangled dough in Tommy Earl’s class.”

  “It’s easy enough to buy piecrust and nab rhubarb leaves from someone’s garden,” I said.

  “Patsy Lee might have done the baking,” Nina suggested. “Maybe that’s what they argued about. The guilt finally got to her. If she baked it, he might feel like he never killed anyone, even though he did.”

  I stopped walking. “Patsy Lee could have baked the pie and taken it to Grainger as a peace offering.”

  Nina nodded. “They sat outside and Grainger ate it, but Peter was in the alley, listening. When Grainger didn’t die, Peter stabbed him.”

  “I’d call that murder,” I said.

  “Me too. But that could be exactly how it went down.”

  “Do you think they stole the rhubarb from Nellie’s ex-husband’s garden?” I asked. “It does seem odd that he happened to be growing rhubarb.”

  “I’m game to check out their garden,” said Nina. “My husband is out of town until Saturday. I don’t have anything pressing to do.”

  We walked along our street. My house seemed fairly peaceful. I wasn’t sure if Bernie and Willa were still there.

  We continued to Dooley’s house.

  “He’s probably at work,” said Nina. “Maybe we should just peek in the garden.”

  “Let’s at least knock on the door first.” We walked up to the door and Aly opened it before we could bang the dragonfly-shaped door knocker.

  “Is Mom out of prison?” asked Aly, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “I’m sorry, honey. We’re still working on it,” I said.

  Dooley appeared behind her. “Won’t you come in?”

  “Actually, we were hoping we could see your garden,” I said.

  Aly rolled her eyes like a bored child. “You just made my dad the happiest person in the world.”

  Dooley chuckled. “I love to show off my garden, but not many people are interested in it. I’m glad we were home. Somebody has an appointment with the dentist today.”

  Aly groaned. “We could skip it and spend time in the garden.”

  He led us through the house to the kitchen, which overlooked a back porch and an expansive garden. We stepped outside.

  “It’s gorgeous!” I exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a garden quite like this.”

  Nina frowned. “Is it a vegetable garden or a flower garden?”

  “It’s an insect garden,” chirped Aly.

  Bees flew peacefully between flowers that bloomed around a pond. Trees offered shade in a back corner, but the other corner was bare dirt.

  “Are you working on that spot in the back?” I asked.

  “The dirt? No that’s intentional,” said Dooley.

  “For burrowers,” explained Aly.

  I understood the look she’d given us. This was a very unusual garden and she must have heard her dad tell people about it many times. To Aly it was all old hat.

  “My favorite part is the butterfly diner.” She took me by the hand and led me around tall grasses on the right side of the pond to pink and purple butterfly bushes, orange butterfly weed, bright yellow coreopsis, lavender wild geranium, and small golden sunflowers.

  “Those plants are native to our area,” Dooley explained.

  “The hibiscus is my favorite.” Aly pointed at vivid pink flowers with ruby centers.

  Nearby a row of tomato plants offered hefty red, orange, and yellow fruit.

  I spied Swiss chard and cabbage. “Do you still grow rhubarb?” I asked.

  Dooley and Aly exchanged a look.

  “It’s behind the tomatoes, near the dock weeds. I wish Dad wouldn’t plant rhubarb,�
�� said Aly. “It got Mom into trouble.”

  “I plant them for the rhubarb curculio beetle,” said Dooley. “They’re such fascinating creatures. They have little snouts, kind of like miniature anteaters.”

  He bent to examine a stalk and pulled a miniature magnifying glass out of his pocket. “There’s one! Do you see it? About half an inch long.”

  He aimed his magnifier at it, and I bent to examine the beetle. “Oh, cool! It does have a snout.”

  I made room for Nina, but when I looked at her, I realized there was no way she was going to examine a snouted bug or any other bug for that matter.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Is something burning?”

  “Tommy Earl built one of those fire pits in his yard. It’s quite impressive. He was entertaining a lady friend the night before last. The breeze picks up the scent for days.”

  “Wong!” said Nina. “I bet he had a date with Wong.”

  It was a good guess, but my thoughts ran darker. The night before last someone had set fire to Alex’s office.

  Chapter 35

  Dear Sophie,

  Isn’t there an easy way to crimp a pie edge? I wear my nails long and they get in the way!

  Manicured Lady in Snapfinger, Georgia

  Dear Manicured Lady,

  The simplest edge by far is achieved by crimping the edge with the tines of a fork!

  Sophie

  It would be easy enough to confirm Tommy Earl’s date with Wong. There was something else that I wanted to ask Dooley about, but not in front of Aly.

  “Aly, do you think your dad would let you pick a couple of nice tomatoes for us to take home?”

  “Sure. Would you like some ears of corn, too? We’ve been eating it every night.”

  “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  Aly grabbed a basket from the kitchen and retreated into the garden to collect a harvest.

  “Dooley,” I said, “I really need to know who you were seeing when you received the blackmail letter. It could be key to getting Nellie out of prison.”