The Diva Sweetens the Pie

by Krista Davis

  Mikulski sat back and stared at me. “Most of them have committed a crime.”

  I looked him straight in the eyes. “I have not.” Unless it was computer hacking! Had Wolf turned me in?

  “Then why are you upset?”

  “Why don’t you cut to the chase, Sergeant? Tell me what you want to know.”

  “Things will go easier on you if you cooperate, Ms. Winston.”

  “I appreciate that. But you’ll have to tell me why I’m here.”

  “I hear you have a nice house.”

  Was he kidding? Was that some misguided attempt to chat or was it some kind of threat? I kept quiet. If he didn’t tell me what he wanted to know, I wasn’t going to give him any information. I guessed he wanted me to break down and confess something, but I had nothing to confess. I stared at him.

  “Do you mow your own lawn?”

  What?! What kind of nonsense was that?

  He folded his arms across his chest. Uh-oh. He was irritated with me. Well, too bad.

  “Sergeant,” I said gently, trying very hard to speak softly and not show how aggravated I felt, “I’m sure you didn’t bring me in just to ask who mows my grass.”

  He sat forward and eyed me. It was like a chess match in a nightmare.

  “A lot of people around town are calling you a hero for saving Alex German.”

  A glimmer of a lightbulb went on in my head. This was about Alex? I chose my words carefully. “I’m not a hero. It was just lucky timing.”

  “Was it?”

  I tilted my head. Surely, they didn’t think I set the fire?

  “Why were you there, Ms. Winston?”

  My brain went into overdrive—lawn, lawn mower, gasoline, fire. Why would they think I set the fire? It made no sense to me.

  “Did you surprise him by going through the back entrance?”

  Aha! It was a trick question. Neither no nor yes would be a good answer. I continued to stare at him, doing my best not to look scared about where he was going with this.

  “Did you have an argument? Is that why you attacked Alex?”

  At last he had gotten to the point of the interrogation. I frowned. Had someone told them we argued? Suddenly I was feeling the heat.

  “I would like to call an attorney.”

  He sighed, and I knew why. Merely uttering those words forced him to bring the questioning to a complete halt.

  He left the room. I could imagine him out in the hallway talking with Wolf about me and how I refused to answer his questions. What a nightmare. I hoped Nina, Mars, or Bernie had phoned an attorney. There was nothing I could do but wait.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. Benton Evans walked in, cool as a cucumber.

  He carried a black leather briefcase and wore a navy blue suit. I knew him well from the social circuit. He was a big supporter of the library and the animal shelter. Well into his sixties, Benton carried himself with the confidence of a man comfortable with himself and his life. He spoke with a Southern drawl. “Sorry to take so long, Sophie. I was in court.”

  He sat down with me. “What do you say I buy you a cup of coffee and we have a chat?”

  I grinned. “You’re on.”

  Benton escorted me out of the interrogation room. It was wrong of me and I knew it, but I smiled broadly at Sergeant Mikulski.

  When I had passed him, I heard him ask Wolf, “Did you really date her?”

  Benton grinned and I giggled.

  Benton opened the passenger door of a gleaming red MGB convertible for me. It was vintage, if not an antique. I hoped that creep Mikulski noticed that I was getting a lift home in a most enviable car.

  Benton drove us to King Street, parked, and escorted me into a café, where he led me directly to a table in a back corner.

  When we had lattes in front of us, Benton said, “Darlin’, there’s a rumor around town that you and Alex had an argument at Market Square.”

  “That’s why they arrested me?”

  “Y’all do a little bit of yellin’, did you?”

  “No. Not at all. I was asking him about Grainger Gibbard’s murder and Alex didn’t think I should be looking into a closed case.”

  “No screaming?”

  “I’m afraid not. I would guess most people didn’t even know we were having a little disagreement. In fact, I’m somewhat surprised that there would even be a rumor of that sort.”

  He nodded. “Then you argued about it again in his office?”

  “No. Never. I didn’t even see him again until the night of the fire. Who would spread that kind of malicious rumor? And why would they bring me in for interrogation over something so flimsy?”

  “Well, darlin’, it seems they found your fingerprints on the gas can at the scene.”

  Chapter 38

  Dear Sophie,

  What’s your favorite way to decorate a pie?

  Unoriginal in Surprise, Indiana

  Dear Unoriginal,

  Use small cookie cutters to cut leaves out of your dough and place them on the edge of the pie all the way around. It makes a lovely presentation.

  Sophie

  Ispewed latte on the table.

  “I’m so sorry!” I dabbed at it with a napkin and fetched more paper napkins to clean it up. Benton was always so unflappable and there I was spitting latte. How vulgar of me. “I’m sorry, that took me totally by surprise.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Sergeant Mikulski asked me if I mow my own lawn. I guess he was trying to get me to say I had a gas can.”

  “Do you?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t you? Everybody has one for their mowers and weed-whackers and such.”

  “Did you tell him that?”

  “No. I clammed up because I didn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

  “Very shrewd of you. Have you seen this gas can lately?”

  “No. I’ll look for it when I go home, but I guess we both know it won’t be there.”

  Benton settled back in his chair, so I told him exactly what had happened, from the discussion about the Grainger Gibbard murder to finding Alex beat up in his office. “I even had Daisy with me. Who would take a dog with them to beat someone up? And what’s my motive? I had no reason to attack Alex or burn down his office. No, no, no. That had to be someone who had something to hide—something that Alex knew and that was in his files.”

  Benton’s eyebrows lifted. “Why would that person want to frame you?”

  I pointed at him. “That’s the real question. It had to be someone who knew about my relationship with Alex.”

  “Which is just about everyone in town,” said Benton.

  “Maybe I know the secret,” I mused.

  “What secret?”

  “Whatever it is that Alex knows and that person wants to hide. I’ve thought all along it must be one of Alex’s clients. Why else would he burn the office? He was trying to get rid of files. What do you think?” I asked. “You know your clients’ secrets. What would be so bad that they would want to kill you to prevent you from talking?”

  Benton took a deep breath. “Some people don’t want anyone to know what’s in their wills, or who the beneficiaries are. Other folks are fussy about their business transactions and don’t want the details to be public.”

  “Bernie says everyone has a secret.”

  Benton smiled. “I suppose he’s right in a way. Most of our secrets are important to us, but not to many other people.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s say you are charged with assault on Alex and setting his office on fire.”

  “Heaven forbid.”

  “But you have an alibi. Because right up until the very moment when you saw his hand in the window, you were with Wolf.”

  I gasped. “That would be an excellent alibi. But that didn’t happen.”

  “This is just an example. You and Wolf might not want to admit that because he’s married. So the two of you would ha
ve a secret that not many other people would care about, but it would matter a lot to Wolf and his wife.”

  I couldn’t help thinking about Dooley and the letter accusing him of having an affair. Someone was banking on exactly what Benton was talking about. A secret that wouldn’t matter to most people, but would create havoc for Dooley and Nellie. And it just might throw Nellie off her stride if she was baking in a competition. Peter. That was what Peter did to Nellie that Patsy Lee regretted.

  “Sophie? Are you okay?” asked Benton.

  I nodded my head. My mind was spinning. What if Mars was right? Maybe the murders weren’t connected at all. It was looking like Peter and Willa murdered Patsy Lee. What if Sergeant Gibbard killed Grainger, just like Martha thought? “Is there any way possible that Alex would know one of his clients was a murderer, but someone else was convicted?”

  Benton appeared surprised. In a scholarly tone he said, “What an interesting proposition. In that case Alex would have to keep his client’s secret. And what a secret that would be!”

  “It would also be an overwhelming motive.”

  “Just so I’m clear, we’re not talking about you, are we?” asked Benton.

  I leaned toward him. “No. But I think Alex knows who killed Grainger Gibbard.”

  Benton squinted at me. “That’s quite an assertion.”

  “That’s the person who stole my gas can, assaulted Alex, and set his office on fire.”

  “If that’s the case, then all we have to do is ask Alex.”

  “They’ve had him in a medically induced coma. Think you can keep me out of the slammer long enough for him to recover?” I asked.

  “That’s a tall order. But I’ll do my best.”

  Benton offered to drive me home, but as fun as it was to ride in his convertible, I declined. I felt like walking. It wasn’t far and I needed some time to think things through.

  What I didn’t understand was why the perpetrator would have fingered me. Why try to frame me? To get me out of the way? Because I was an easy target? Or did I know something that worried him?

  I turned at the corner and walked along the alley behind my house. It would have been easy for someone to open the gate to the alley. I pulled up the latch and let myself in. My garage was connected to the house by an open outdoor porch with a roof over the top of it. I opened the door to the garage and looked for my gas can. It came as no surprise to me that it was gone.

  When I finally walked into my kitchen, a cheer went up. Daisy pranced in circles, and Mochie stood on the table and reached a paw out to me. It was as if even the animals knew I had been in trouble.

  “Are you okay?” asked Nina. She peered in my face like she was checking to see if someone had punched me.

  Bernie let out a huge sigh. “We’re glad you’re home.”

  “What took so long?” asked Mars.

  I sat down on one of the fireside chairs. Mochie jumped into my lap, and I patted Daisy at the same time. “In a nutshell, whoever started the fire at Alex’s office stole the gas can from my garage. It has my fingerprints on it.”

  Nina handed me a mug of hot tea. “Just the way you like it.”

  “Thanks, Nina.” I gazed around at my friends. “Did any of you hear a rumor that Alex and I had an argument?”

  “The mailman asked me about it,” said Nina.

  “I heard it at the restaurant,” Bernie admitted.

  “Mars?” I asked.

  “I got it from Remy.”

  “Interesting. Everyone in town was talking about something that was a private conversation at Market Square while we ate lunch. It wasn’t heated. There was no yelling or anything like that. How did that morph into an argument that everyone heard about?”

  “It sounds like the kind of thing Peter did to Patsy Lee’s competitors,” said Nina. “It’s easy to start a rumor.”

  “What do you bet that’s how Tommy Earl got a reputation for drinking on the job?” I said.

  “And Roger being inappropriate with women,” Bernie suggested. “He’s always been a gentleman in my experiences with him.”

  “So Peter may be behind this. I’m glad they nabbed him before he could hurt anyone else. Hey, which one of you sent Benton to the police station?”

  Mars raised his hand. “I told you that if you were imprisoned like Nellie, I would move heaven and earth to get you out.”

  “Thanks, Mars. I owe you.”

  “Are you still up for dinner tonight, Sophie?” asked Nina. “I could order takeout.”

  “And let that gorgeous fresh corn go to waste?” Mars looked horrified.

  “I can throw everything on the grill,” said Bernie. “And Sophie made two desserts before she got grilled.”

  Everyone moaned at his terrible pun. Oddly enough, that silly remark made me feel much better. It had been an awful day.

  It was six thirty when we gathered for dinner out on my covered deck. Bernie had brought Willa along. She chatted about her interrogation by Wolf while Bernie manned the grill. Mars stoked the fire in the fireplace, and Nina whipped up strawberry bourbon lemonade. I felt totally pampered as I sipped my drink through a straw and listened to Willa.

  “Honestly, how anyone could think for a second that I could harm someone, much less Patsy Lee, is simply beyond me. And how do you defend yourself against fingerprints on a coffee cup? It’s not like you have an alibi and can claim you weren’t there. I was there. I bought a cup of coffee from Moos and Brews, just like hundreds of other people did that day.”

  And that was when it hit me.

  Chapter 39

  Dear Natasha,

  I hate pie. I hate making the dough, and I loathe trying to create an acceptable edge. But I like the fillings! Any suggestions?

  Fillings for Me in Horsetooth Heights, Colorado

  Dear Fillings for Me,

  Bake cobblers.

  Natasha

  “There are too many fingerprints!” I announced.

  They looked at me like I had lost my mind.

  “Don’t you see? What do they call it? A modus operandi? It was the same person. He thought the best way to frame other people was through their fingerprints. He knew the police would check for them. It’s so basic. And it worked for him. I bet you anything that the person who murdered Patsy Lee is the same person who attacked Alex.”

  “Peter?” asked Bernie.

  “I don’t think he would have been so precise. Whoever did this made sure his or her fingerprints weren’t there. It was someone else.”

  I sipped on my drink and tuned them out while they speculated. Nellie had been framed, too, by the missing rhubarb from Dooley’s garden. One person had murdered two people and almost killed Alex.

  Sergeant Gibbard had been on my mind as a possibility, but I now mentally crossed him off. If I was right, and one person had committed all three acts, then Sergeant Gibbard was in the clear. He had no reason that I knew of to want to murder Patsy Lee. In fact, I didn’t think he had even attended the pie festival.

  It always seemed to come back to the Apex Pie group. Now that I was a person of interest in Alex’s attack, I didn’t think Wolf would tell me if any of the Apex Pie gang were clients of Alex’s.

  I gasped and they all looked at me. “Do you think they’ll let me in to visit Alex, now that I’m a suspect in the attack on him?”

  Nina reached over and patted my arm. “Sophie, if I were you, I wouldn’t go anywhere near the hospital. They’re likely to arrest you.”

  I looked at the others, hoping for a different response, but I could see it in their faces. “Wow. Can one of you go by to check on him once in a while? I guess I won’t be seeing Wolf, either.”

  Bernie gave me a stern look. “They might send him to see if he can weasel information out of you. I’d be very careful if Wolf shows up.”

  He was right. Wolf was a friend, but he was conscientious about his job. If they sent him to ask questions, he would probably do it.

  “You really need to date men
who aren’t so principled,” said Nina.

  “Ahem,” said Mars. “Who sent her a knight in a red convertible to save her today?”

  Amid the laughter Bernie said, “Are you kidding? You’re one of the most virtuous people I know. How you got involved in politics is beyond me.”

  “Au contraire. I have a rebellious nature,” Mars insisted.

  “A rebel without a clue,” said Bernie. “Help me with these steaks.”

  We gathered around the table, on which Nina and I had spread a festive French tablecloth. I poured wine into the blue blown-glass goblets, and we sat down to eat.

  I had just sliced some pieces of my steak for Daisy when Wolf strode into the backyard. I couldn’t believe it. Even though I knew deep in my heart that he was probably doing the right thing, I thought he cared about me enough to be on my side.

  “Don’t tell him anything,” whispered Bernie.

  “He might be wearing a wire,” said Mars.

  I pasted on a fake smile. “Would you care for some dinner?”

  “Thanks, but I really can’t. Could I have a word with you privately, Sophie?”

  Feeling everyone’s eyes on me, I stood up and walked over to him. “I have no more gas cans. Nor do I have any secrets. My friends can hear what you have to say.”

  He gazed at them briefly. “We’d like you to turn over your computer, phone, and iPad. Basically, whatever electronics of that sort that you have.”

  “Do you have a search warrant?” I asked.

  “Sophie, come on. Please don’t make this difficult,” said Wolf.

  “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not turning over a thing. I did nothing wrong, and if you want to get a search warrant, you’ll have to go through my lawyer.”

  I was quivering inside, but I did my best to hide it.

  Wolf’s voice softened. “This isn’t up to me. They will get a search warrant. You can do it the easy way or the hard way.”

  “Wolf! I can’t believe you would do this to me. You know perfectly well that I had nothing to do with the attack on Alex or the fire. Can’t you see? There’s a thread between that event and Patsy’s murder, and probably even Grainger’s death. Someone is framing me.”