by Cat Chandler
“In the cupboard next to the sink, but there isn’t an icemaker in the fridge door. You’ll have to open the refrigerator up and scoop the ice out of its bucket.”
“No problem,” Nicki said. She gave one last speculative look to the bookcase before walking toward the kitchen.
While Maxie kept up a stream of conversation with Ramona, Nicki quickly searched through all the kitchen drawers, and even took a quick look into the small pantry, but she didn’t find one knife to match the same brand as the one that was used to kill Catherine. Even the set displayed in the butcher block on the counter was a far inferior quality than the Zelite knife found at the crime scene.
Having hit another dead end in her theories, Nicki quickly filled two glasses with ice and then water, and hurried back to the living room.
“I like it, Mrs. Edwards. I think mom would too.” Ramona looked up when Nicki handed her a glass of water. “Thanks.” She watched Nicki over the rim of the glass. “The chief said that your mom was murdered too.”
“Yes, she was,” Nicki said quietly. “And I have no idea where my dad is, so he wasn’t much help. But I have two of the best friends in the world, and they helped me through it. They still do.”
“Oh.” Ramona fell silent, looking down into her drinking glass. “I have a friend like that. I’ve known her since grade school. I was staying with her when… well… when…” Ramona stumbled to a stop and took a deep breath. “You know, that night. I’d still be hanging at her place except Aunt Cynthia insisted that I stay with her.”
Nicki picked up her purse and fished around for the folded piece of paper she’d slipped inside it earlier that day. Setting her purse down again, she handed the paper to Ramona.
“My friend Alex is a doctor. She recommended a grief counselor who happens to be right here in Sonoma. This is his name, number and address if you’d like to talk to someone.”
Ramona’s fingers curled around the paper and without a word she tucked it inside her jeans pocket.
“The other number on there is my cell phone. Call me anytime you want to talk,” Nicki added.
Ramona stared at her and smiled just a little. “Maybe. Thanks. Suzanne said you were doing some investigating into the murder.”
“A little,” Nicki admitted. “Mostly to help Chief Turnlow.”
“My aunt said you’ve found a dead person before.”
Nicki nodded, but she wasn’t too thrilled with the turn of the conversation. She didn’t think it would do Ramona any good to talk about dead bodies, so she glanced over at Maxie. “If you have everything you need, we should get going. I know you still have a lot of work to do for the event on Saturday.”
“Yes. And you have baking to get to.” Maxie took Ramona’s hands into her own. “The Ladies in Writing Society is hosting a charity event this weekend. Lots of demonstrations and things to buy. If you feel up to it, I hope you’ll join us. Nicki is giving cooking demonstrations all day Saturday and making a lot of the treats that will be on sale. Since this was an event your mother was a co-chairman on, it’s perfectly appropriate for you to make an appearance in her honor.”
Ramona took a deep breath and bit her lower lip. Nicki thought she looked close to tears again.
“Maybe I will. Aunt Cynthia likes to cook, maybe she’d come with me.”
Maxie gave her hands one last squeeze before busily gathering up the rest of the programs and tucking them away into the box. “That would be just fine then.”
Nicki rose as well and picked the box up off the table. “Thank you for letting us come over today. I know it isn’t easy seeing people after you lose someone you love.”
Ramona nodded but didn’t move from her spot on the sofa. Maxie gave her a motherly pat on the shoulder.
“We’ll see ourselves out, dear. Don’t forget about Saturday.”
They made their way out of the house and back to the car. They’d barely settled in when Ramona came flying down the walkway.
“Wait, wait!” She waved her arms as she sprinted for the car.
Nicki rolled down the window just as Ramona skidded to a stop next to her.
Catherine’s daughter leaned over and put a piece of paper onto the dashboard. “That’s my cell number. If you find out anything about who killed my mom, would you call me?”
“Of course I will,” Nicki said without a moment’s hesitation.
“That’s good. Thanks.” Putting her hands in her pockets, Ramona stepped back from the car. She gave them a nod as Nicki backed her car out of the driveway.
They were almost halfway home before Maxie ventured a comment. “That was a nice thing you did, dear, giving her the name and number of a grief counselor.”
Nicki sighed. “She’ll need one if she’s sitting in that house crying alone. And it was Matt’s idea. He’s the one who called Alex and gave me the information before I came to pick you up.”
Maxie settled more comfortably into her seat. “He’s such a nice boy, isn’t he? And a thoughtful one too.”
“Yes, Maxie. He is.” Nicki rolled her eyes. She really wished everyone would stop campaigning on Matt’s behalf and let him do it himself. If he was so inclined. Which Nicki didn’t think that he was.
“Well, back to business then. Did you find anything in the kitchen?”
Nicki shook her head. “Some knives, but nothing out of the ordinary. And none of them were nearly as pricey as a Zelite.”
“I’m not surprised, dear. What about Walter? The ex-husband is always a good suspect.”
Walter had come off as being just short of slimy, but he didn’t impress Nicki as a killer. “He can recoup his financial losses, but only if Catherine is dead.”
“Really? Why that’s an excellent motive!” Maxie sounded almost cheerful over the prospect.
“But,” Nicki added, “he has an ironclad alibi he’s already given to the chief, who I’m sure thoroughly checked it out.”
Maxie slumped back against her seat. “Oh. How unfortunate since that still leaves Charlie as the main suspect.” She sighed and stared out at the landscape passing by the window. “What do we do now?”
Nicki wished she knew.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Would you like an apron?” Nicki had to smile at the look of resignation on Matt’s face.
He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders in. “I suppose it has ruffles all around the border?”
“You haven’t just stepped into an episode of The Brady Bunch, Matt. I have chef aprons, and they don’t come with ruffles or lace.”
Matt grinned at her. “Might not be so bad. Marsha was pretty hot.”
“Marsha, Marsha, Marsha,” Nicki chanted. She handed an apron to Matt before donning one herself and adjusting the ties around her slim waist.
Matt followed her example before he rested his hands on top of the long quartz counter. “I don’t know why you’d take issue with Marsha. If you were on the show that would definitely be the role you’d be cast in.”
Nicki cocked her head to one side and considered it for a moment. “Maybe. But I’d rather be Alice.”
That put the grin back on his face. “The one with the hairnet and sensible shoes?”
“And the only one who ever got anything done on that show. At least she put a meal on the table.” Nicki pulled out a stacked set of mixing bowls from a cabinet in the base of the island. “Including dessert. Which we are about to make. And when it comes to raspberry tarts, by ‘we’, I meant you.”
She produced an index card and set it on a small stand on the counter. “Here’s your recipe. All you have to do is follow it. But check with me before you do anything.” Nicki gave her tall, dark-haired kitchen assistant a stern look. “And I mean anything.”
Matt picked up the card and read through it before looking up and smiling. “This doesn’t look so hard.”
Already seeing a problem looming ahead, Nicki narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Did I mention to check with me b
efore you do anything?”
“Yes, boss. You did.” Matt returned the card to the little stand and leaned against the counter.
“What kind of cooking do you do when you’re at home?”
“The peel-back-the-cover-and-stick-it-in-the-microwave kind. My list of numbers for takeout is very long.” Matt’s grin was back in place. “But don’t let that scare you. I’m a fast learner.”
“But a slow starter,” Nicki said before she realized she’d said it out loud. She quickly got busy taking out several sets of measuring spoons and plugging in the mixer and blender.
Matt adjusted his glasses and shuffled his feet. “Um. We are still talking about cooking, aren’t we?”
Nicki took a quick breath before glancing over at him. “Yes. And you can start by getting together everything you’ll need and putting it all in one spot. The dry ingredients are on the table, and the raspberries and butter are in the fridge.”
“Where did you find the raspberries?” Matt asked as he claimed a set of the measuring spoons and one of the bowls.
“Not that one, it’s too small. Try this one.” Nicki handed him a bigger bowl. “I didn’t find them. Addie did, at the grocery store. But she almost fainted at the price.”
Matt frowned. “If they busted the budget, I’ll be happy to pay for them. Consider it my contribution toward the cause.”
She smiled. It was so typical of Matt to offer to buy all the raspberries. “No need. We’ll just up the price a little and sell every delicious tart. Provided of course…”
“I know,” Matt said, cutting her off. “Provided I check with you before I do anything.”
Nicki beamed at him. “That’s the spirit!”
The morning flew by as they worked companionably side-by-side. Matt grumbled, but he checked with Nicki before he measured even a teaspoon of salt. He teased her about her complete lack of sports knowledge, and she returned the favor by giving him a thorough description of the plot of her favorite Sherlock Holmes adventures.
Just as Matt had carefully, and holding his breath the entire time, set his first batch of tarts onto a cooling rack, the front door slammed shut. He gave his new creations a nervous look before lifting his gaze to Nicki’s smiling face.
“That was loud. Are these going to, I don’t know, fall down inside or something?”
“They’re tarts, oh great sports czar, not soufflés.” She kept right on stirring her caramel sauce when Jenna burst through the door.
“I could smell all this deliciousness even through the walls.” She walked over, sat down and snatched a tart right off the cooling rack before Matt could stop here.
“Hey! We’re going to sell these.”
Jenna shrugged and put her stolen goodie on the counter, waving her hand back and forth to help it cool. “Put it on my account.”
“You don’t have an account,” Matt said as he carefully pushed the rack holding his tarts out of Jenna’s long reach.
“Then I guess you’ll have to chalk it up to a business loss and cover it yourself.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Nicki said. She kept stirring even as she bent over to give her sauce a closer look. “I think this is ready.” She nodded to Matt. “Go ahead and put in the next sheet of your tarts and set the timer to forty minutes.” She switched her attention to Jenna. “Are you on a break from your website design marathon?”
Jenna nodded. “I’m ahead of schedule, actually, so I needed a break.”
“How would you like to earn that tartlet?” Nicki turned her head slightly so she could keep an eye on Matt as he slid the next batch of tarts into the oven. She wanted to be sure he set the timer. Matt was meticulous when it came to details, which made him a good editor and, she supposed, a good engineer as well. But he was out of his element in the kitchen. Besides, she enjoyed bossing him around. And it was beyond adorable the way he took each task so seriously. She’d watched him out of the corner of her eye when he’d measured out the sugar three times, and then had squatted down to get eye level with it, just to be sure he got it right. Even now he was standing, wiping his hands continuously on a dish towel as he held his breath when Jenna took her first bite of his creation.
“Wow! Seriously scrumptious.” Jenna gave him a thumbs-up as she took a second bite, and Matt’s whole face lit up with a huge smile.
“I had some help,” he admitted, aiming his smile at Nicki.
“Don’t tell anyone that,” Jenna said around a mouthful of tart. “It will ruin your rep.”
Matt immediately held his hands up. “I don’t want a rep. This is a onetime only experience.”
“Uh huh.” Jenna finished off her tart and wiped her hands on a paper towel. “So what do I have to do to show my appreciation for Matt’s one and only creation?”
Nicki inclined her head toward the hallway as she continued to drizzle caramel over the last few cupcakes in front of her. “Help us update the murder board. I can tell you from personal experience that Matt’s handwriting is almost as bad as Alex’s.”
Jenna’s head whipped around and she pointed at him. “Then you are not to go near the board. Ever.”
She hopped off her stool and headed for the door. Nicki quickly untied her apron and followed, with Matt right behind her.
Once Jenna had the marker in her hand, she faced her audience of two. “What’s new? What do we add and where do we add it?”
“Walter Gifford. He has a big motive for wanting his ex-wife dead since he’s named in the will. He not only gets his paintings back, but he believes they’ll cover the one hundred thousand dollars he lost from investments Catherine had made.” Nicki paused while Jenna wrote it all down.
When she was finished, Jenna stepped back and nodded. “That’s a dandy motive. Better than anyone else’s. So the crime is solved?”
“He has a solid alibi,” Matt put in. “He was with potential art buyers at the time.”
“Then the crime isn’t solved.” Jenna stepped back up to the board. “Is there anything else we know?”
Nicki consulted the little notebook she always carried with her and used to jot down the highlights of any event or interview. “Cynthia and Ramona are both beneficiaries of separate trusts that Catherine had control of, and both used to ask her for additional funds, although Cynthia only occasionally and Ramona on a regular basis.”
Jenna waved for her to continue as she kept writing out notations on the board.
“Gifford’s a creep.” Matt shrugged when Nicki shook her head at him.
“No judgments, remember?” she said, although she had to agree with him. Catherine’s ex-husband was not someone she’d want to meet in a dark alley.
“That’s not a judgment, that’s a fact.” Matt said.
Jenna chuckled as she wrote “creep” next to Walter Gifford’s name. “I guess the interview didn’t go all that smoothly.”
“Because my sidekick didn’t behave very well,” Nicki sighed.
“Your sidekick didn’t like the way he put his hands on you, or talked down to you.” Matt crossed his arms over his chest.
“Oh really?” Jenna turned around and frowned at Nicki. “Then as your friend, I have to agree with the sidekick.” She looked over at Matt. “As the sidekick’s friend, I’m wondering why you didn’t smash in Walter’s artistic nose?”
Matt shrugged. “Nicki said ‘no’.”
“And back to our murder,” Nicki said loudly. “Like her twin, Cynthia also collects dolls, and according to Ramona, she collects books, too, and likes to cook. But, she didn’t have any high-end knives in her kitchen.”
“Bummer. No knives and no motive unless you think she wanted to get control of the trust?”
Nicki shook her head as she put her notebook aside. “She doesn’t have to. According to Walter, Catherine gave her the extra money whenever she asked.”
Jenna walked over to the small sofa and plopped down next to Matt. “So where’s the connection? What do we know for sure?”
Nicki stared at the board, her mind working to find those elusive “dots” that would tie everything together. “It isn’t what we know, it’s what we don’t know,” she said slowly.
“Such as?” Matt asked.
Nicki stood and walked over to the board. Her eyebrows drew together, and she pressed her lips together into a thin line as she read several of the entries before facing Jenna and Matt.
“We don’t know why Catherine was acting so out of sorts the night she was killed, or who she was supposed to have met with that day despite the fact she tells her best friend, Suzanne, everything. And we don’t know where the knife came from that was used to kill a woman who doesn’t cook. And we don’t know how a killer not only got into the house, but out again without being seen by Beatrice Riley. And we don’t know why Catherine was killed, except it wasn’t a robbery.”
“We do know she was stabbed in the back,” Matt said quietly. “That might have been convenience, or it might be for a reason.”
“Revenge?” Nicki turned back toward the board. “But by who and for what?”
“Money.” Matt nodded when Nicki sent him a questioning look. “There’s six suspects up there. A daughter, a sister, an ex-husband, a business partner, a boyfriend and a best friend. And four out of six of them had a money issue with Catherine Dunton. So that gives it a better than fifty-fifty chance it was for money.”
“I vote for the ex,” Jenna declared “He has enough bank to have hired someone to do the deed, and once a creep, always a creep.”
“I’m leaning toward Ramona,” Matt said.
Startled, Nicki frowned. “Why? Have you even met her?”
“Kids do stupid things when they’re mad at their parents. Look at the Menendez brothers, or Lizzie Borden for that matter. Ramona would have known about the nosy neighbor and her daily schedule, and if anyone knows how to sneak into a house without being seen, it’s a kid,” Matt pointed out.