Sugar and Vice

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Sugar and Vice Page 5

by Eve Calder


  “A pirate bike tour is a great idea,” Kate said. “Where will you go?”

  “Well, I’m trying to keep it accurate. But when it comes to our pirate friends, it’s all rumor and conjecture. Gossip, if you will. I’ve spoken with some of the local historians. And I’m sticking to a couple of the coves that the pirates supposedly used—Gentleman George and some of the bands who came later. And we finish up with a beach picnic at the nature preserve.”

  “I love that,” Kate said.

  “You should join us,” Claire said enthusiastically. “It’s great fun. And, if nothing else, a lovely ride on a beautiful part of the island. For me, that’s the real treasure.”

  * * *

  As Kate and Oliver approached In Vino Veritas, she sighed audibly. “I should have brought Maxi, too,” she mumbled under her breath as she presented Oliver with another small gingersnap.

  He lifted it softly from her palm. Then he gazed up at her. If Kate didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she saw concern in the large black eyes. But dogs couldn’t worry, could they?

  “C’mon, sweetie. We go in, we chat, we’re out of there.”

  She opened the heavy shop door.

  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite pastry chef,” Harper Duval drawled. Somehow, his honied, monied New Orleans accent seemed thicker. Relaxed, tanned, and clad in a turquoise dress shirt with khakis bearing a knife-edge pleat, the owner of the wine and gourmet foods shop always seemed more like a well-heeled host than a working shopkeeper. But Kate also caught a whiff of cigarettes.

  Weeks ago, Harp had confessed that he smoked when he was tense. He’d also been trying to quit. And he’d had the patch on his arm to prove it.

  She wondered just how bad things had gotten between him and Caroline. Although, from what Maxi had said, his soon-to-be-ex was more interested in her freedom than his money.

  “Just a little something to say ‘thank you’ for the flowers,” Kate said, presenting the bakery box.

  “Are these what I think they are?” Harp said, beaming as his fingertips momentarily brushed hers.

  He opened the lid. “Ah, your famous anise almond cookies. My favorite. You know what they say. ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’”

  He met her eyes expectantly. Kate felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Like a noose.

  Sitting, but alert beside her, Oliver gave out a soft low growl.

  Kate did a double take. The pup had never done that before.

  “Um, there’s no easy way to say this,” she started. “But I have to say ‘no’ to the dinner invitation. I just broke off an engagement. I’m not ready to see anyone. Even casually,” she added hurriedly. “I’m not ready to even entertain the idea of dating. I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

  Harp smiled. “I understand completely, dear lady. When you get to know me better, you’ll learn I am a very patient swain.”

  Kate took a small step back, shaking her head. “When I do date again, it won’t be with a neighbor I consider a dear friend,” she said softly, looking at him directly. “It’s too hard when that doesn’t work out. And this is a very small town.”

  Kate reminded herself to smile and tried to keep her tone light. It felt like there were boulders in her stomach. She looked down at Oliver, who was totally focused on Harp. She couldn’t read the pup’s expression.

  “Is it your young man? The one who’s been in town the past day or so? You still have feelings for him.” The last sentence was a statement, not a question.

  “Evan,” she said softly. It would have been so easy to blame this on him. Especially since Evan Thorpe had been happily telling the world he was still her fiancé.

  But that wasn’t honest. Or fair. And she needed Harp to know, even after Evan left town, that she truly wasn’t interested.

  “No,” she continued. “That’s over and done. But I was in a relationship for a long time. We were getting married. Making plans together. Now I’m on my own. And I like that. I wanted to let you know how flattered I am that you’d invite me to dinner. But the bottom line is, when it comes to that kind of thing, we’re not a good match.”

  “Well, you and I will have to agree to disagree on that part,” he teased genially, placing the bakery box carefully onto the thick, white marble counter. “Perhaps as we get to know each other better…”

  “I know what it’s like to come out of a long-term relationship suddenly,” Kate blurted. “It feels like everything’s upside down. And I understand that ending a marriage—a long marriage—is much more devastating than breaking an engagement.”

  “Ah, you’ve heard,” Harp said quietly, as the smile slipped from his face. “My almost-ex is jetting around Europe, as we speak. The good news is she doesn’t want my money. The bad news is she doesn’t want me, either.”

  He glanced from Kate to the floor, then at some spot in the back of the shop.

  Finally, he looked at her again. While his mouth curved upward in a genial smile, his eyes were flat. “But you certainly can’t fault a gentleman for trying.”

  Chapter 14

  Kate sat at Maxi’s breakfast bar, basking in the warmth of the bustling home kitchen. She picked up the glass of white wine at her elbow and took a small sip.

  “So how bad was it?” Maxi asked, as she prepped the pot of soft-shelled crabs with generous dashes of various seasonings.

  “Don’t ask,” Kate said. “Brutal. Let’s just say I’m thinking twice about going to the book club meeting this weekend.”

  “No way, corizon. The Coral Cay Irregulars need you if we’re gonna figure out what happened to Gentleman George. And I need you if we’re gonna figure out who planted Alvin in my garden. Besides, Barb deputized you.”

  “She didn’t deputize me, she just asked for my support. And for yours, too, by the way.”

  “And I’m going. You want things to go back to normal, right? So you just do what you always do, go where you always go, bump into Harp around town and act like everything is hunky-dory. Then pretty soon it will be. And he’ll be onto his next crush.”

  “I don’t know. It’s one thing to run into the guy downtown. But going to his home? That seems a little invasive.”

  “Well, it would help if you could burp after the meal. You know, super loud? I have a cousin who can belch ‘La Vida Loca.’”

  “How about I show up to the meeting in curlers and a ratty bathrobe?”

  “If you got one of those avocado face masks, that would be good, too. Or the little paper ones? They’re really nice. Look, the truth is, if you want things to go back to normal, you just gotta act normal. Besides, it’s not like you’re going there alone. We’ll ride over together. And you got the whole book club between you and him. We’ll eat a little, vote for Barb’s proposal, see who remembers what was going on around town back in February, and leave.”

  “I know you’re right.”

  “I know what will cheer you up,” Maxi said. “Barb called me just before you arrived. That new vet clinic is opening in town next week. And she wants to throw the guy a party to welcome him to the downtown business community. She’s got me doing balloons. And she’s hoping you can make a pretty gingerbread doghouse.”

  “Did she really say that? A pretty gingerbread doghouse?”

  “La Presidenta requested a big doghouse made of cookies,” Maxi said, spreading her arms wide. “What kind I don’t think she cares. I’m just her minion. And translator.”

  “Mom!” Michael shouted from the next room. “Javie ate a bug!”

  “Javie, did you eat a bug?” Maxi called into the den.

  “We’re playing pirates, and Michael dared me,” Javie said, a grin on his face as he ran into the kitchen with Oliver at his heels.

  “OK, what kind of bug?”

  “Ant.”

  “Regular ant or fire ant?”

  “One of the little black ones.”

  “Good protein. They sell those in the health food store. OK, you go get washed up
and you and Mr. Oliver can set the table outside. If you’re hungry enough to eat bugs, it’s time to get this show on the road. And you, Miguelito,” she said, pointing her index finger to where her older son was standing in the doorway. “Stop daring your brother.”

  “Aw, Mom! I didn’t think he’d really do it. What’s for dinner?”

  “Steamed ants. With grasshopper sauce. Now go wash up. You can help your father boil the corn and crabs out back. Vamanos!”

  Kate smiled. “Do they really sell ants at the health food store?”

  “Chocolate covered. But I didn’t want to give the little gremlins any ideas.”

  “Speaking of which, I brought a little something for dessert,” Kate said. “A sneak preview of the first cookie contest winner. They go on sale tomorrow.”

  “I feel humbled and grateful,” Maxi said, holding her big wooden spoon as a microphone. “And for this honor, I would like to thank the academy.… So how good are these cookies, really?” she added, giving the crab pot a quick stir.

  “Dark chocolate and decadent. The recipe calls them ‘chocolate icebox cookies,’ because you have to chill the dough before you bake them. Then, once they cool from the oven, they get a generous topping of vanilla icing. I don’t know who’s going to win the contest, but I’m definitely keeping these around. I think they’ll be a hit for parties and special orders, too.”

  “You had me at ‘dark chocolate,’” the florist said, smiling. “OK, if mi amor is finished shucking corn, this pot is definitely ready for him. One South Florida crab boil coming up!”

  “I also brought a couple of key lime pies,” Kate confessed. “As a backup.”

  “Ay, I’m gonna have to save a piece of that for mi mami. It’s her favorite.”

  “Where is Esperanza tonight?” Kate asked.

  “Birthday party for one of her friends. And they’re having it at one of those night bowling places. Cake, burgers, and bowling balls that glow in the dark. Super festive.”

  * * *

  In the cool of twilight, Kate, Maxi, and Peter lingered at the table as the sun sank into the western sky. A gentle breeze stirred the trees as Elena, Javie, and Michael, armed with empty jelly jars, gleefully chased fireflies around the backyard. Oliver, in the thick of the action, ran in circles around them.

  “At least this way, we know they’re chasing bugs, not eating them,” Maxi mused, reaching for another icebox cookie. “And you were right about these. Plus, there’s plenty of room in the white icing for decorations. Or advertising. Not that I’d ever use them for that.”

  “And you can tint it pink or blue for baby showers—or green for St. Paddy’s Day,” Kate said.

  “Well, I’m no advertising whiz, but I will say they taste great,” Peter said, snagging another for himself. “But hey, I liked that key lime pie, too. Tangy. Not too sweet.”

  “Yeah, that’s a mistake even the natives make,” Maxi said, approvingly. “Too much sugar.”

  “Thank you! I was thinking of making little individual ones for the book club meeting. Now that someone has twisted my arm into going. I figured single-serve pies would be better for a buffet.”

  “You know who would love those too? The resorts,” Maxi said. “They’re always looking for local specialties for the guests. You know, giving them a taste of the real South Florida.”

  Across the yard, Elena held her jar carefully as Michael gently placed two more lightning bugs into it. He pulled the wax paper taut over the top and resealed it with a rubber band.

  Elena stared at the luminous creatures, fascinated. “Ooooo, pretty buggy!” she said. “Mami! Papi! I have pretty buggies!” she called, running over to the table.

  “Yes, you do have pretty buggies,” Maxi said happily.

  “And what do we do at the end of the night?” Peter asked, teasingly.

  “Buggies go bye-bye?”

  “Yup,” he said, pulling the small girl into his lap, as together they studied the flashing lights emanating from the jar.

  “But buggies are pretty,” she protested.

  “They’re like your friends,” Peter explained softly. “They come over and you play. But then they have to go home. They have homes, too.”

  “OK,” she said softly, nodding. “Play now?”

  “Definitely play now,” he said smiling.

  With that, the little girl ran back to her brothers and Oliver, chubby legs pumping as she clutched the precious jar to her chest.

  “Have you heard anything else from Ben?” Kate asked. “About you-know-who?”

  Peter shook his head. “It’s a tough one. Right now, they’re just trying to get an ID. But they’re coming up blank. Obviously, they can’t use fingerprints. And dental records don’t help until there’s a potential identity to match it to. So they’re going to get a facial reconstruction sketch to circulate. To see if anyone recognizes him. So far, he doesn’t seem to match any of the missing persons reports from the region, either.”

  “When I first hit town, Gabe Louden told me that everyone who wanted to start over either came here or went out to the West Coast. Maybe he’s not from around here.”

  “True that,” Maxi said, raising her glass. “Although we only came over from Miami.”

  Peter smiled, clinking his glass against hers. “A couple of lovesick kids, we were.”

  “Looking to build a nest,” Maxi said, nudging his shoulder with her own.

  “Looking to put a little distance between us and your family,” he countered, grinning.

  “We were not!” Maxi said, in mock outrage. “OK, maybe a little. But we still go back for all the big celebrations.”

  “Bottom line, the police don’t know anything yet,” Peter admitted.

  “What about DNA?” Maxi asked, swirling the dregs of the tea and melting ice cubes in her glass.

  “They may have to do that if they can’t get an ID any other way,” he said. “But it’s expensive. And unlike what you see on TV cop shows, it takes time. Our labs are massively backed up. And there’s no guarantee it would even help. DNA only works if he was a felon or a member of the armed forces and we have his DNA in a database. Or if a blood relative used one of those family-tree kits from a company that shares the results. Otherwise, we’re back to square one.”

  “Do they know when it happened?” Kate asked.

  “If they do, Ben’s not telling,” Peter replied, tensing slightly. “All he’d say was that it had been out there a year or less. And most likely six months or less.”

  “Kate and I talked about it. We think it might have been during that time in February when we went to Miami. You remember? To see Ernesto? And Sam was away for a few days, too. So both yards would have been empty. And both shops would have been closed.”

  Peter sat up and looked directly into his wife’s face. “Look, whoever this is, it isn’t something you want to get involved in,” he said softly. “I mean Stewart Lord? That was one thing. To help clear Sam. But not again. You need to stay out of this.”

  “Even though someone brought it to my backyard?”

  “Even though,” Peter said, emphasizing the words. “Ben will work it out eventually. Let him handle it.”

  With that, he pushed off from the table and strode across the yard toward the children and Oliver.

  Maxi tilted her head, watching him join their game, all of them stalking fireflies across the thick carpet of emerald grass. “There’s something he’s not telling me,” Maxi said quietly, never taking her eyes off her husband. “I don’t know what. But Peter is hiding something.”

  Chapter 15

  “Are you sure you still want to do this?” Kate asked anxiously, as Maxi whipped the Jeep around a hairpin curve on the beachfront road. A storm was rolling in and Kate could smell the salt water and ozone in the air. Along with something sweet. Jasmine.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Maxi said, as she swung the car onto the lane that led up to Harper Duval’s beachfront mansion.

  “I don’t mean
the book club meeting itself. Or even helping Barb with her Sir George Bly project. I mean asking around about Alvin. Peter seemed pretty determined the other night that we stay well out of this one.”

  “Peter knew what he was getting into when he married me,” Maxi said. “Somebody plants a skeleton in my yard, I want to know who. And why.”

  “You said you thought Peter was hiding something.”

  “I don’t think it. I know it. I know him.”

  “Could it have something to do with one of the cases he’s prosecuted?” Kate asked. “Could it be some kind of warning?”

  “Nah, someone wants to give you a warning, they don’t hide it under four feet of sand,” Maxi said, slowing as they came up behind Bridget O’Hanlon’s electric green Volt. “They leave it right out in the open. Whoever put Alvin in my backyard didn’t want him to be found.”

  “So where would you hide a body if you wanted it to disappear permanently?”

  “Swamp.”

  “OK, that was scary quick,” Kate said. “Does your brain really work that fast, or have you thought about this one before?”

  Maxi grinned.

  Kate wondered if Peter knew who Alvin really was. Or suspected he knew. She remembered what Maxi recounted about her husband suddenly clearing his calendar to take the family to Miami in February. Could he have done something before he left to protect them? Was that why he got them all out of town for a while?

  “Maybe he’s just worried about you,” Kate said finally. “If someone killed Alvin—if they weren’t just covering up a natural death or dodging the cost of a burial—maybe he’s afraid that nosing around could get you hurt.”

  “Whatever else is going on, I understand mi amor is being protective. But not knowing who’s using the backyard of my shop like that? That’s gonna get me hurt more. Whoever it is, they did this once. I don’t want them coming around again. Not when I’m there. Not when mi niños or mi mami are there. Not when some poor teenager is watching the store for me. I need to know. And I need to know it’s not going to happen again.”

 

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