The Diva Sweetens the Pie

by Krista Davis

  “But I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

  “Then why would someone send you a blackmail letter? The person who did that must have had reason to think you were involved with someone else.”

  “I have thought about that for years. It ruined my marriage. I was sick over it. But truly, I wasn’t having an affair.”

  “What about a woman at work?” suggested Nina. “Maybe someone was friendly with you and someone else jumped to incorrect conclusions?”

  “You think it could be someone in my office? There are a few ladies in my department.”

  “Do you have the letter?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll get it for you.”

  Aly carried the basket full of goodies up to the porch.

  “They’re wonderful. Thank you so much, Aly!” I said.

  Aly led the way into the kitchen, where Dooley handed me a clear plastic food storage bag with a letter in it.

  “Dooley, did you ever make any payments?

  “Many nights I have lain awake wishing I had made payments. I guess it wouldn’t have changed anything. But perhaps it would have. Nellie wouldn’t have left me and might not be in prison now.” He seemed sad when he added, “In the dark of night when it’s quiet, one thinks these things.”

  Aly reached for her dad’s hand.

  I was tearing up. “Thank you for the veggies. We’ll be in touch.”

  Nina took the basket and we left. On the short walk back, she examined the contents. “How are you going to use these?”

  “I guess you’ll have to come to dinner and find out.”

  “You’re on.” Nina handed me the basket, and I turned to my house.

  I opened the kitchen door to find Mars with Daisy and Mochie. “What happened to Bernie, Willa, and Natasha?”

  “Bernie took Willa to see a lawyer. Natasha went to meet someone for lunch.” He peered in the basket. “I love fresh corn!”

  I put away the vegetables and took strawberries out of the refrigerator. I poured them into a large colander to wash them.

  “Are you baking a pie?”

  “Yes, want to help me?”

  He sighed. “Sure. What do I do?”

  I handed him the colander of strawberries. “Take off the stems and cut them into quarters.”

  He groaned. “This better be a great pie.”

  I pulled cornstarch, sugar, and graham crackers out of the pantry and preheated the oven. “Where were you two nights ago?”

  “I did not beat up Alex.”

  After spinning the graham crackers in the food processor with melted butter, I pressed them into a pie pan and slid it in the oven. “I know you didn’t. I’m just thinking.”

  “That’s always trouble.”

  “Very funny. Did you know that Wong is dating Tommy Earl?”

  “Really? You know, I can imagine them together.”

  “Apparently, he has a fire pit in his backyard.”

  “I see where you’re going with this. Fire pits are still all the rage. Bernie has one. You have a fireplace in your backyard. That doesn’t mean one of you set fire to Alex’s office.”

  I scooped out two cups of cut-up strawberries and mashed them in the pot. “Bernie seems very close to Willa, doesn’t he?”

  “I don’t think it’s anything romantic. He believes in her, just like I believe in you. Friends have to stick together in moments like this.”

  I poured the cornstarch and sugar over the mashed strawberries and smashed them all together before adding water. “You don’t think Willa was in cahoots with Peter? He seems almost like a Svengali. I don’t see the attraction, personally. But Patsy Lee and Natasha were crazy for him. Then again, Natasha was also crazy for you,” I teased.

  “That’s me—a Svengali. It’s the same in politics. Men with big ambitions seem to attract women.”

  “Has anyone ever tried to blackmail you?” I asked.

  “You’re making my head spin. Are we talking about Bernie, Willa, Natasha, Tommy Earl, or Peter?”

  I took the mashed strawberries off the stove. I picked up the bowl of strawberries, placed a layer on the bottom of the pie pan, and ladled the mashed berries over them. I finished assembling the strawberry pie and placed it in the refrigerator to set up.

  Pulling on a pair of gloves, I sat down at the table with Mars and took the letter out of the plastic sleeve.

  The envelope was unremarkable. It was the simple white letter size that I used to send payments to people. There was no return address. It was postmarked Washington, DC.

  I slid the letter out and read aloud to Mars.

  I know you cheated on your spouse. You really should be more careful if you’re going to sneak around. For a mere $2,000 paid in bitcoin, you can buy my silence on this subject.

  Don’t think that telling your spouse about your infidelity will rid you of the problem. The humiliation and anger will result in you being alone.

  To avoid this and make me go away, you need only pay me by bitcoin. Precise instructions are enclosed.

  Still watching you.

  “You have to be kidding me!” Mars reached for the letter, but I snatched it away.

  “You have to wear gloves. There could be fingerprints on this.”

  “What kind of jerk would send a letter like that?”

  “What would you have done if you received it while we were married?”

  “That’s easy. I would have trashed it. I might have shared it with you first, just for a laugh.”

  “It wouldn’t have worried you, even if you weren’t having an affair?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s clearly some kind of scam. But I see what you mean. Some people might have flipped out about it.”

  I handed him gloves to put on. “Nellie left Dooley because of this letter.”

  “Dooley? That skinny guy you were worried about?”

  “That’s the one. It ruined his marriage.”

  “Was he having an affair?”

  “He says he wasn’t.”

  “You know, this is really very anonymous. I mean in terms of the recipient. Look at it carefully. It doesn’t mention his name or Nellie’s. Not even on the envelope. It’s like someone stuck this in his mailbox.”

  “In a way that almost makes it scarier. Someone knew where he lived.”

  “You’re missing my point. You could put these in every mailbox on any street. Chances are good that you’d hit a couple of guilty people.”

  “Eww. That’s just sick.”

  “It’s totally twisted. Think about it. It doesn’t matter whether the husband or wife finds it. If they’re having an affair, they panic. If they’re not having an affair, they assume it was meant for their spouse and they flip out.”

  “Which is exactly what happened to Dooley and Nellie.”

  “But no one else on this street received one, right?” asked Mars.

  “It was years ago. But we lived here then. I suspect we would have heard something about it.” I started laughing. “Unless we received one and you never told me.”

  “This pie better be really good if I have to take that kind of abuse.”

  “I don’t think anyone else got a letter. It would be sufficiently upsetting to throw a person off in a competition, wouldn’t it?” I asked.

  “It’s just enough to put a seed of doubt in your head. You think it was one of Peter’s stunts to give Patsy Lee a leg up?”

  “That’s exactly what I think. What’s more, I suspect that’s what Patsy Lee and Peter argued about that night. Maybe he intended to do it to someone else, and Patsy Lee wouldn’t stand for it.”

  At that moment the phone rang. It was Wolf. “Just wanted to let you know that the fingerprints on the vial are a match for Peter’s. We’re picking him up for questioning now and sending the vial to the lab to be analyzed.”

  “So it’s over.”

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far yet, but it looks like we might be wrapping it up soon.”

  “Thanks for letting me
know, Wolf.” I hung up the phone. “They have Willa’s fingerprints on the coffee cup and Peter’s fingerprints on the vial Natasha found in the limo.”

  “I’d say that’s pretty conclusive.”

  Feeling a little melancholy about not making more progress for Nellie and Aly, I slid into the banquette opposite Mars. “I really thought the person who killed Patsy Lee had also murdered Grainger and tried to kill Alex.”

  “That would have been a neat little package. I don’t think that happens with murder. Those three incidents are probably all unrelated.”

  “Alex had nothing to do with Nellie’s trial, yet I feel like he tried to warn me against looking into that case.”

  Mars shrugged. “That’s sound advice.”

  “Why? Why is that sound advice? Nellie may be doing time for someone else’s crime.”

  “If that’s true, then a killer is on the loose and you wouldn’t want to aggravate him.”

  “Thank you. That’s what Alex said. I thought I had somehow angered one of Alex’s clients, and that led to the attack on him.”

  “That would mean—”

  “That Alex knows who really killed Grainger. And worse, he let Nellie rot in prison for five years,” I said, finishing his sentence.

  Mars folded his arms across his chest. “Attorney-client privilege.”

  “How could that even happen?” I asked. “It seems impossible that he would know.”

  “Maybe he’ll spill the beans when he wakes up.”

  I glanced at my watch. “His parents have been detained. I went to see him last night. He was totally unresponsive.”

  “When’s the pie being served?”

  “That’s what’s important to you? Tonight for dessert.”

  “Am I invited?”

  “Of course. Would I ask you to cut the strawberries and then not give you any pie?”

  “I’ll bring Bernie.”

  “Great. We can eat outside with a fire in the fireplace.”

  Mars took off with Daisy, and I spent a couple of hours working, but Nellie and Alex were never far from my mind. After a short nap I headed to the grocery store, but changed my mind and stopped by the hospital first.

  When I walked along the corridor in the hospital, I noticed immediately that the guard was gone. My heart beat faster and I sped up to a jog.

  I swung open the door to Alex’s room and could feel the blood draining from my face. It was empty. The bed was made, waiting for the next patient. The flowers were gone, and there wasn’t the first shred of evidence that Alex had ever been there.

  Chapter 36

  Dear Natasha,

  Why do I have to cut slits in the top of my pie?

  Curious in Piddleville, Georgia

  Dear Curious,

  The filling steams in fruit pies. By venting the top crust, you’re allowing the steam to exit the pie.

  Natasha

  I backed away from the door and gazed around. Did I have the wrong room? The wrong floor? Everything seemed to be correct. I retreated to the nurses’ station and asked for Alex.

  The nurse barely looked at me. “He’s been moved to a different floor. Take the elevator down one level.”

  That had to be good news! I waited impatiently for the elevator and nearly leaped out of it on the floor below.

  I didn’t need anyone to tell me where his room was. I spotted Wong sitting outside his door. I hurried toward her.

  “Alex is better?”

  Her eyes were sad. “Not that I can tell. But I hear his parents might arrive today.” As I started to go inside, she said, “Sophie, don’t expect much.”

  I peered in the room, expecting the worst. Some of the bandages on his face had been removed, revealing swelling and bruises.

  “Can you hear me, Alex?” I took his hand. “Squeeze my finger if you can.”

  Nothing happened. He wasn’t any different at all.

  I sat with him for a few minutes, telling him about the fingerprints on the vial and the coffee cup.

  Pretending he could hear me, I said, “Hey, I hear your parents will be here today.”

  Clutching his hand in mine, I tried to position his fingers so that he could squeeze mine and tried again. “Squeeze my fingers, Alex. Try really hard to let me know you hear what I’m saying.”

  Nothing happened.

  I kissed his forehead gently. “You get some rest, and I’ll stop by later on today. Okay?”

  I left the room, and asked Wong, “What have you heard? Is he off the meds that induced a coma?”

  Wong swallowed hard. “Yes. Now it’s up to him. The nurses tell me that it can take days, even weeks, for them to come around.”

  “How awful. Maybe the voices of his parents will reach him. How come you look so gloomy?”

  “Tommy Earl and I were just getting to know each other and now he’s leaving for New York.”

  “I’m sorry, Wong. Peter told me he has big plans for Tommy Earl.” What was I saying? When Peter was arrested, it would put a quick end to Tommy Earl’s plans for stardom. Suddenly I was at a total loss. What could I say? I waited for her to speak.

  “Just my luck, huh?”

  “I’m so sorry.” I said goodbye and got out of there fast before I felt compelled to tell her that Tommy Earl probably wasn’t going anywhere. It seemed to me that Peter left a trail of disappointed people in his wake.

  On the way home I stopped at the grocery store. I picked up eggs, steaks, Panko, jumbo shrimp, lemons, and six gorgeous apples, which made me want to bake another pie. I drove home, parked the car in the garage, and toted my groceries into the kitchen.

  How soon would Alex be able to eat pie? I took some buttery pie dough out of the freezer to let it thaw while I put things away and preheated the oven. Then I set to work peeling apples and slicing them as thin as I could. In a microwave-safe container, I heated sugar and heavy cream for caramel sauce. I tossed the apples with heavenly scented apple pie spice and lemon juice, and then added the caramel sauce to them and tossed them again. After rolling out the dough and transferring it to the pie pan, I poured the sliced apples on top of it. I poked at them just a bit to get rid of any obvious air holes and sprinkled just a pinch of coarse salt over them. I cut strips of the remaining dough and crisscrossed them on the top. A quick egg wash on the exposed dough, a sprinkle of coarse sugar and salt, and it was ready to go into the oven. I had just closed the oven door when I saw Wolf’s car pull up outside my house, followed by a squad car.

  Nina bolted out of her front door and ran across the street.

  Wolf and a uniformed officer walked up to my front door.

  I hurried to the foyer and flung open the door. “What happened? Did you arrest Peter?”

  Wolf looked me in the eyes and swallowed hard.

  “Is it Alex? What happened?”

  “Ma’am, are you Sophia Winston?” asked the uniformed officer.

  “It’s Sophie, not Sophia,” I corrected him. “And Wolf knows who I am.”

  “I’m sorry, Sophie,” said Wolf. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Is Alex dead?”

  “Ma’am,” said the uniformed officer, “I’d like you to accompany me to the police station.”

  I gazed at Wolf, who looked miserable. “Just go with him, Sophie.”

  “I don’t understand. Am I under arrest or something?”

  “We need to ask you some questions, ma’am. It would be helpful if you came with me willingly.”

  It had been years since I was carted off to the police station, but that nightmare came flooding back to me. I felt weak in the knees, even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I have a pie in the oven.”

  Those words were possibly the most ridiculous thing I could have said under the circumstances, but I had to turn off the oven before I left the house.

  “I’ll take care of it,” said Nina. “And I’ll call Mars and Bernie. They’ll know what to do.”

  I hoped so. Wolf probably knew exactly what to d
o, but I had the sinking feeling he couldn’t help me, or he wouldn’t be standing there apologizing to me.

  “Thank you, Nina.” It came out as a whisper, although that wasn’t what I had intended. I walked to the squad car.

  The uniformed officer opened the back door and I slid inside like a criminal.

  Chapter 37

  Dear Sophie,

  I love meringue pies, but they always weep! How do I prevent that?

  Crying in My Pie in Shoo Fly, Illinois

  Dear Crying in My Pie,

  Be sure the filling is hot when you add the meringue so it cooks a bit from underneath. Storing in an airtight container will help, too. And beware rainy weather. Meringue behaves better on dry days.

  Sophie

  The officer didn’t say a word all the way to the police station. He opened the door and escorted me inside. Another officer took over and showed me to an interrogation room.

  And there I sat for what seemed an eternity. Finally a plainclothes cop entered and identified himself as Sergeant Mikulski.

  “I guess you know why you’re here?” he asked.

  I knew I wasn’t supposed to answer questions without an attorney present. But my attorney was in a hospital bed, in a coma. I figured it couldn’t hurt to answer that particular question. “I don’t have a clue.”

  He gazed at me intensely, like a buzzard looking for dinner.

  “Now, Ms. Winston, we have never met before, but they tell me you’re fairly sharp. I’d think you might have some idea why we brought you in.”

  I did not like this guy. “Where’s Wolf?”

  “Wolf is busy working.”

  I looked up at the mirror on the wall and suspected I knew exactly where he was. Wolf was too close to me to be in the room, but I would have bet my shoes that he was on the other side of the mirror watching and listening. “What is it that you want from me, Sergeant Mikulski?”

  “You seem agitated.”

  “Do you bring in many people who aren’t agitated about being here?”