Cake Tastings and Killers

by A. R. Winters

  On the way, I spotted a black SUV I hadn't noticed before. The driver leaned back in the front seat with one arm hanging out the window.

  He looked a decade older and twenty pounds heavier, but it was definitely Paige’s husband. The ex-husband who supposedly cheated on and abandoned his pregnant wife.

  I looked back toward the front yard. Paige didn't seem aware of her spying ex.

  Something wasn’t adding up, but I needed help figuring out what. It was time to pump Danielle for the latest on the Keys dirt. For once, maybe I could use the fire to our advantage.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The kitchen was alive and humming when I got back to the garden cottage. It was our last Fisher girl Sunday dinner. Granny and Danielle went all-out. A large red pot of Danielle’s seafood was on the stove. A pan of Granny's cornbread, famous for real corn kernels and a heaping helping of cayenne pepper in the batter, lay on the counter ready to be cut. The smells of seafood, tomato paste, garlic, and butter filled the air, making my stomach rumble.

  "You’re late, Laura Fisher," Granny said from her spot at the stove. She scooped a ladle of conch fritters out of the hot oil and dumped them onto the growing stack beside her. "Dinner's almost ready, and it's your turn to make dessert. I want banana pudding."

  I blinked. "How am I supposed to make banana pudding when this is the first I'm hearing about it? Granny, why didn't you call or text me?"

  "Because she had me run to the grocery store and get it," Danielle said from her spot on the couch. She nodded to the landscape painting in my hands. "That's pretty. Did you find that at a sale?"

  "Yeah. Wouldn’t it be perfect for the upstairs sitting room?"

  The suggestion seemed to pique Danielle's interest. She tried to scoot forward then, but remembering that Baby Ben and Coral were using her lap as a bed, she reached out a hand instead.

  “It really would be…” she said with a dreamy tone. "How much do I owe you?"

  I waved her away and stowed the painting on top of the bookshelf for safekeeping. "Nothing. Consider it an investment in my nephew's future."

  "Less gabbing, more mixing!" Granny called from the kitchen. "I mean to follow this meal with something sweet and creamy."

  She glanced at me over her shoulder with a mischievous grin then turned back to the pot.

  "Granny, you could have made the pudding yourself," Danielle said in a scolding tone. "We both use your recipe. At this rate, it won’t set until bedtime!"

  "Which will make it a perfect late-night snack. Besides, I like it more when one of you makes it," Granny said. "Makes it taste better."

  "Fine, fine. I'll whip up some pudding. Meanwhile, Danielle what do you know about Paige and Carl Hawkins?" I went into the kitchen and washed my hands.

  Fortunately, Granny's banana pudding recipe started with an instant mix. If I had to make vanilla pudding from scratch, our dessert wouldn't be ready until bedtime. And that was assuming I didn't dissolve into a teary, beer-guzzling mess before that.

  "Not much. Why?" she said.

  "Ooh, I smell gossip." Granny dropped her last ladle of fritters onto the pile and turned the burner off. "Don't keep us in suspense. Let us hear it!"

  "It's a bit lacking as far as Keys gossip goes. Her husband stepped out with another woman and decided to make the arrangement permanent."

  "What? That's news to me!" Danielle said. "Where did you hear that?"

  I looked at her in time to see her reach down and try to shoo Coral from her lap. Coco didn’t budge. She didn't even open her eyes. Danielle huffed softly, scooped Coral into her hand, and laid her gently on the couch.

  "Paige Hawkins. I bought the painting from her. It looked like she was clearing out just about everything nonessential."

  Danielle padded into the kitchen with Ben tucked against her side. "I've never heard anything about Carl being a woman chaser."

  "I'm just repeating what Paige said. She seemed pretty sure." I dumped the pudding mix into a bowl and added milk.

  Granny stepped away from the stove, taking Ben into her arms as she went into the living room and sat down in her recliner.

  "He was probably smart and kept her out of town." Granny pulled the small handle on the side of her chair to put her feet up. "In my day, that's how the ones who cared to be careful kept the gossip from spreading around town."

  "Did Paige say anything else?" Danielle asked.

  "Just that I was right when I told her Charlie Porter hurt a lot of people. From the way she said it, I figured she was talking about herself. Caroline said she got the name of Paige's bakery from him."

  "Charlie Porter did Paige a favor? Doesn’t sound like the jerk I remember."

  "Or the one who made the living room smell like stale whiskey before noon," Granny said.

  I had moved on to slicing the bananas and setting them up on a plate. Granny's recipe called for cinnamon on every other layer. It gave the dish a warm edge that reminded me of Christmas. Granny or Danielle had already set the ground cinnamon on the counter.

  "From what I can gather, he was helping Caroline and Simon." I grabbed the spice container and passed it to my sister, gesturing for her to shake while I layered the ingredients. "That doesn't mean he was helping Paige. In fact, with the way he spoke to her, I don't see how he could have been."

  "Well, I don't know anything about Paige and Charlie, but he and Carl Hawkins are friends," Danielle said. "At least… they used to be. I haven’t seen the two of them together in a while."

  I paused in the middle of a layer of vanilla wafers. "Spilling your guts about your buddy's affair to his wife sounds like a lot of hurt to me. Do you think Carl Hawkins is capable of killing someone?"

  Danielle furrowed her brow and started to shake her head, but halfway through the motion, she paused. "I was gonna say that Carl wouldn't hurt a fly unless it hurt Paige first, but now that I know they split up because he cheated on her, I can’t be sure."

  "What good would killing the man do after he's already let the secret out?" Granny said, throwing a bucket of cold water on my theory.

  "It could be Carl Hawkins is having second thoughts," I said. "There was a man that looked just like him hanging around Paige's neighborhood."

  “I guess…” Danielle said. “But they've been together a long time. And didn’t you tell me she's pregnant?”

  "A baby on the way'll make a man reconsider a lot of things," Granny said, "And not all of them good."

  "Maybe Carl got tired of watching Charlie take potshots at his wife?" I wasn't too proud to admit I was desperate to keep this theory alive. There had to be at least one person on the suspect list besides me.

  This time, Danielle pumped the brakes on the train of thought. "I don't think they were that close. And anyway, I said I haven’t seen them together in a while. Charlie being a jerk to Paige goes a long way to explaining why."

  "Yeah, you’re right." Knowing I'd been beaten, I turned my attention back to the final layer of the banana pudding.

  Danielle gathered bowls and plates and started setting the table. Granny put Ben in his bassinet and came over to the table. The two of them laughed and chatted through dinner, and I tried to keep up, but I couldn’t take my mind off of Paige, Carl, and their connection to Charlie.

  It didn't make sense for Carl to have killed Charlie because Charlie told Paige about the affair. And why kill him for hurting her feelings now, when their relationship was over?

  After dinner, I liked to go for a walk on the grounds. It was sunset, and without guests, the place was deserted. The perfect conditions to think through all of the thoughts swimming in my head.

  I walked the entire length of the property from the garden cottage to the sliver of beach in front. Paige and Carl. Jason Delany. Simon and Caroline. Me. All of us had reasons to hate Charlie. Only one of us killed him.

  The embarrassed business partner who suffered one betrayal too many?

  The long-suffering underlings who now saw a clear path to an e
xecutive office?

  The couple whose marriage he might have destroyed?

  I couldn't bring myself to consider Caroline Delany a suspect. She was too sweet, and too much of her life had been made worse by Charlie Porter’s death.

  But everyone else, even me, seemed as good a suspect as any.

  When I got to the boathouse, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and brought up Detective Reid’s number.

  I needed a professional dot connector, and my brother-in-law was away on business.

  As soon as Reid picked up the phone, I unloaded on him.

  "Detective, whatever you think about me, just please listen for the next few seconds." I took a deep breath to steel myself. "There was something going on between Paige Hawkins, Charlie Porter, and her husband Carl. I don't know how and I don't know what. All I know is Carl Hawkins was having an affair. Charlie knew, Paige does too, and now the Hawkins are separated."

  Reid's end of the line was silent.

  “Go on…” he said finally.

  So I told him everything. About the way Paige clammed up at the grocery store, Paige's insistence that Charlie had hurt her, even about Carl spying on their house from a car parked across the street. Reid listened to the whole thing.

  "Is that something?" I asked when I'd finished.

  "I can't comment on an open case, Miss Fisher," he said. "Especially not ones with recent developments."

  For Conner Reid, that was as close to a positive response as I was going to get.

  "Thank you, Detective Reid. I'll let you get back to work."

  "Hold on, Miss Fisher. There is one development in the case I can tell you about," Reid said. "The analysis of your grandmother's fertilizer came back this afternoon. It was negative for the chemicals in Charlie Porter’s toxicology report. You're officially off the suspect list."

  It felt like a weight came off my shoulders. I leaned forward, swaying in my seat due to that newfound lightness.

  "That's… amazing news, Detective Reid." By far the best I'd had all year.

  "I thought it would be. Have a good night, Miss Fisher."

  After I hung up the phone, I stayed alone by the boathouse for a while longer. The ocean breeze blew into my face, cooled to the more tolerable nighttime temperatures. For the first time in nearly two weeks, I felt free. Truly free.

  Charlie Porter’s demise wasn’t hanging over my head anymore.

  His ghost couldn't haunt the Paradise anymore. The fires of gossip would slow to an ember and then they would cool off entirely. Charlie, the story of his death, and the wounds of the people he hurt would fade.

  Maybe his killer would be brought to justice, maybe not. But for the first time since the day I found Charlie's body, it wasn't my problem to solve.

  Chapter Twenty

  When my legs finally felt strong enough for the walk, I went back to the garden cottage and told Danielle and Granny the good news. We each had double helpings of the banana pudding to celebrate. It wasn't fully set, but we were all too hungry and happy to care.

  Sometime around midnight, Granny and I waved goodnight to Danielle and watched as she crossed the grounds.

  “‘Bout time we had some good news around here,” Granny said, patting her belly. “Not a moment too soon. It's bad luck to host a wedding with the sword of fate hanging over your head.”

  "Don't be melodramatic, Granny. My nerves can't take it."

  "Who's being melodramatic? That poor girl's already had a dead body turn up at her cake tasting. If you can think of a worse bad omen, I'd like to hear it."

  I couldn't, so I scooped Coral up from her favorite spot on the couch. It also happened to be my favorite spot. I sat down, pulling her tiny body against my chest and cooing to her in compensation. Coral wiggled then hopped out of my arms.

  "Hopefully nothing else bad happens. To her or any of us." Since Coral didn't want to cuddle, I climbed to my feet and padded over to Granny. I bent and gave her a kiss on the forehead to wish her goodnight.

  The next morning marked seven days until the Delany-Lambert wedding. Over my years working in and adjacent to the wedding industry, I'd started to refer to this period as hell week. Affectionately, of course.

  Hell weeks came with a flurry of phone calls, timelines, to-do lists, and check-ins with vendors. The bride and planner, planner and coordinator, coordinator and vendors all needed to be on the same page about what would happen that day and when for a seamless event.

  I'd never left a hell week with everyone on the same page. Given that the Delany-Lambert wedding had already landed our family with a dead body, cost us two weeks of sleepless nights, and put the future of my sister's business in jeopardy, I couldn't help but brace myself. I wanted to believe we were in the clear, but Granny had a point. This project had at least one more surprise to throw at us, I could feel it.

  Hopefully, it would be something manageable and definitely nonlethal.

  Judging by the frantic look on Danielle's face as she and I reviewed the plans that afternoon at Granny's kitchen table, she was expecting a curveball too. Her eyes darted from the papers in her hands to Ben and back. Her foot bounced constantly. It was like she couldn't get comfortable in her own skin.

  I knew better than to crowd Danielle too much when her anxiety flared this badly. It was better to hang nearby and wait until she asked for something. Still, it killed me to sit there and watch my little sister spin.

  "Are we absolutely sure Caroline isn't going to make any changes to the menu?" Danielle asked. It was the fourth time she had.

  "I sent her a text this morning to ask if anything had changed, and she said no. Paige confirmed the cake details last week."

  “The cocktail hour and reception playlists?” she asked.

  “Those are the DJ’s problem. But I had Caroline email copies to me in case he isn’t on the ball.”

  “What about the shot list?” she fired back.

  “That’s my problem,” I said. “But same thing. I’ve got the list.”

  “What if she wants to change it?”

  “Then she’ll be like every other bride I’ve ever worked with.” I furrowed my brow. “You know they’re never sure about that before the day.”

  "I know. I know. The rentals should get here before nightfall." Danielle tapped her finger against her chin. “Will you be here to––”

  A loud crash from the living room, followed closely by Granny swearing and Ben wailing, interrupted Danielle. We both jumped and turned to look.

  Coral darted into the hall and up the stairs so fast she passed like a little orange lightning bolt.

  Granny shook her fist at the empty path Coco left behind. "What have I told you about jumping on my tables, you little rascal!?"

  Danielle's hands shot to her forehead and gripped her temples. "All right. That's it! I need some quiet time alone to think."

  That was my cue.

  "We'll clear out." I slid to my feet.

  "What? I'm not clearing out of my own house in the middle of the afternoon. My stories are on, and I've got to clean up this mess!" Granny balanced her hands on her hips and hit me with an expression that dared me to tell her what to do.

  I tilted my head toward Danielle. Granny looked at her, noted her body language, and nodded in agreement, her lips forming a small o.

  "Are you saying you don’t want to spend the afternoon at Charlene’s getting your nails done?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Granny took the easy out I offered. "You know, I think that would be nice. I'm gonna change and grab my pocketbook before you two change your minds."

  While Granny went upstairs to her bedroom, I scooped Baby Ben from his bassinet and rocked him. He didn't stop crying.

  "I'll take him," Danielle said in an exhausted voice.

  "Nah, Benny Boy and I are gonna go for a walk, aren't we?" The combination of my arms and his mother's voice calmed Ben down. His cries softened to whimpers then faded entirely.

  "Are you sure?"


  I nodded. "He just topped up at the milk bar, so we should have an hour or two before he needs another fill up. We'll be back by then. And yes, to answer your question. When I get back, I’ll help you unload and count."

  "Can you make it a ride? There's an extra bottle in my fridge." Danielle buried her face in her hands. "I'm so behind."

  I smiled and nodded on my way out the door with Ben in tow. After retrieving the extra bottle, the diaper bag, stroller, and a couple of emergency toys, I packed Ben into his car seat and took off in Danielle's car.

  "Where to, Ben? The beach? The diving museum? That last one's probably a little advanced for you, but what self-respecting Floridian doesn't love sand and the ocean?" I glanced at the baby mirror. Ben had already fallen asleep. "The coffee shop it is!"

  The rocking of the car kept Ben asleep for the entire drive to Key West. With Charlie’s murder hanging over my head, the drives down I had once loved had taken on a sour tone. The coffee shop had been the one bright spot in all of that, so I was happy to go back with no strings attached.

  Ben started to fuss just as I finished my café con leche.

  "Dunno if it's the Loper blood or the Fisher blood in you, kid, but you have impeccable timing." I tickled Ben’s neck, drawing out a little giggle that melted my heart. After draining the last drops of sweet coffee, I tossed my cup and took Ben to the bathroom to get down to business.

  "Can I tell you a secret, Ben?" I whispered as he struggled in vain to grab my nose. "I missed days like this."

  If I wanted to keep my promise to Danielle, I only had half an hour to spend in Key West, and I'd burned ten of them at the coffee shop. There wasn't much I could do with twenty minutes, so I started walking in the direction of the car.

  On the way, I saw Conner Reid walking out of the post office down the block from the coffee shop. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, a simple relaxed outfit that somehow fit him like a well-tailored suit. Before I had the chance to consider whether or not to draw his attention, he paused and turned in my direction. I couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses, but something told me they zeroed in on me instantly.