Gabby cast Bambi-like eyes upon me, as if I was her last hope.
“When I found out Gabby was coming here, I asked to tag along.” I stared at the floor, as if embarrassed. “You see, I’m a huge fan of your show and always wanted to—” I broke off.
“Yes?” Sylvia’s voice bristled with impatience.
Nausea rumbled in my stomach. I hated groveling, even if it was pretend. Unlike Gabby, I was never dazzled by celebrities. Okay, if I’d ever gotten the chance to meet Julia Child, that might have been different. In truth, I had disliked Sylvia from the start. Anyone who pretended to have cooking skills was an insult to chefs everywhere.
“I can’t believe I’m asking this.” No lie there. “Do you think that I could be a guest on your show sometime? It would be great exposure for my restaurant.”
Her loud, haughty laughter filled the room. Yes, she hadn’t disappointed. I’d expected nothing less from her.
“Really?” Sylvia was clearly amused. “You can’t be serious. Do you think that just anyone can be on my show? Sorry, darling. Once you have some real cooking experience, come back and see me.”
I bit into my lower lip so hard that I tasted blood. Again, I told myself to ignore this woman. Gabby’s livelihood and mine were at stake and that was all that mattered right now.
“That’s okay. I expected you to say no.” I tried to act like she’d crushed my last dream and then pulled a small pad from my purse. “Could I at least have your autograph?”
Sylvia gave me a condescending smile, momentarily forgetting her indignation. “Well, of course. Anything for a fan.” She scrawled her name across the page in illegible fashion and handed it back to me. Her haughty attitude had replaced her blustering ire, and I sensed her guard was down.
“Thank you so much. Again, we’re both sorry the signing ended so badly. It’s so awful how Daphne died.”
As I’d hoped, Sylvia took the bait. She glanced around the room, but Liz was on the phone and paying no attention to us. “Preston heard that she might have been poisoned.”
“Really?” I tried to convey surprise in my response.
“They say from the cannoli.” Sylvia watched me carefully for my reaction.
“That’s impossible.” I was annoyed that someone had already told Preston how Daphne had died. It must have been Paddy, since he was the only one who knew.
Sylvia’s eyes glittered with triumph, as if she’d gotten Final Jeopardy right. “So, are they certain it was your desserts that made her ill?”
“How well did you know Daphne?” I asked, sidestepping her question. “Did she have a lot of friends? A boyfriend, maybe?”
“How would I know? She was Preston’s employee and nothing more.” Sylvia placed special emphasis on the last two words.
“Of course. But we’d love to find out who is responsible, since it’s affecting Gabby’s business.” In an attempt to gauge her reaction, I went a little further. “I only asked because, hey, it’s always the boyfriend, right?”
“Daphne was employed by Preston for four months?” Gabby asked.
“I believe so.” Sylvia made a big deal out of checking her watch. “His former publicist took another job outside of the publishing industry, so he decided to find one on his own.” She stopped to draw a deep breath. “But that—woman—lied to Preston. She said she had experience in marketing and had done this type of work before, but it quickly became obvious she was bluffing to get the job.”
“Why did he hire her then?” Gabby wanted to know.
Sylvia’s nostrils flared. “He felt sorry for her. She told him her father was ill, and they were drowning in medical bills.”
That would be easy enough to check out. From what I could recall, Daphne’s parents had divorced years ago, and she’d had no contact with her mother. Preston obviously had another reason for hiring Daphne, but I wasn’t about to suggest it in front of his wife. “I heard one of Preston’s fans mention last night that Daphne—” With a gasp, I brought a hand to my mouth. “Oh, forgive me. I shouldn’t be spreading rumors.”
Gabby was on to me. “Tess, how many times have I told you to stop doing that?” She shook her head at Sylvia. “She’s so addicted to gossip.”
I nodded meekly. “Thanks for talking to us, but we’ve taken up enough of your time.”
Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Hold on. You heard what?”
She was so predictable. “Well, I overheard one woman mention to her friend that Daphne was openly flirting with Preston.”
She gave a toss of her head. “Preston and I have been married almost twenty-five years. Trust is the basis for a marriage. Without it, you have nothing.”
Yes, I knew all about the trust factor. It had reared its ugly head after Dylan’s death. “You’re very lucky.”
“Thank goodness Preston saw through Daphne’s act,” Gabby said wisely. “If a man ever cheated on me, I’d take him right to the cleaners. But I’m sure you’re much nicer than me.”
Sylvia’s deep, throaty laughed filled the room. “Oh, my dear. No man’s going to make me look like a fool. It would be the last thing that he ever did.”
We mumbled a hasty goodbye and left the television station in a hurry. Sylvia might be a pretentious phony, but there was something dangerous lurking underneath that carefully made up face of hers.
“What do you think?” Gabby asked as we drove away.
“She has a motive,” I said. “If Preston was sleeping with Daphne like she accused him, there you go. She may have been jealous and decided to do away with her.”
Gabby made a face. “To think that I idolized the man. He seemed so nice when we first corresponded through email, and I was thrilled to pieces by his interest. What a fool I was.”
“You do realize that it could have been Willow emailing you?” I asked. “Preston said she took care of his website. Correspondence too, I’m guessing.”
“True, but you don’t think about all that stuff when it concerns one of your idols.” Gabby heaved a sigh. “I’m never going to get all sappy about an author again. Well, except for Stephen King,” she added hastily.
“Do you want to come back to the restaurant with me?” I asked.
She stared down at her phone screen and typed out a message. “Might as well. I’ll tell Lou to stop over and let us know what he’s found out. Give me your theory, Nancy Drew. Who do you think laced the cannoli with shrimp powder?”
I took a left down Harvest Park Avenue. “Anyone could have brought the cannoli in when they met Daphne. Who knows? And they might have told her I made them.” That was a disturbing thought. “This was someone Daphne trusted or, at the very least, knew well enough to come back and meet at your store.”
“It could be someone we haven’t even considered yet,” Gabby pointed out.
This was entirely possible. “Did Gino check your security camera footage?”
She nodded. “Not Gino personally, but one of the other officers did. Gino said they didn’t come up with anything after hours. Besides, there’s only one camera out in front of the building. Daphne and whoever brought the cannoli must have used the back door. My key works in both doors, remember.”
“You need to get those locks changed as soon as possible,” I reminded her.
“I know,” Gabby said darkly. “More money down the drain, thank you very much.”
We pulled in front of the restaurant. After unlocking the door and deactivating the alarm, I stopped to adjust one of the tablecloths in the dining room, while Gabby proceeded into the kitchen. She let out a sudden giggle. “Looks like someone has an admirer.”
“What are you talking about?” I went into the kitchen and on top of the counter stood a large crystal vase full of pink roses. There was an envelope next to them with my name on it, and my pulse quickened. Next to lilacs, roses were my favorite flower. I immediately t
hought of Dylan, who’d sent me pink roses on our fifth anniversary—our last one together. The memory squeezed at my heart so tightly that I found it difficult to breathe for a moment.
Before I could react, Gabby grabbed the card off the counter. She waved it at me teasingly. “Can I open it?”
“No!” I laughed. “My name is on it.”
“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “I’m dying to know who they’re from.”
Her expression was so cute that I relented. “Oh, fine. Go ahead, if it makes you happy. My mother probably sent them. Maybe Vince was here to let the delivery man in.”
Gabby was already reading the card. “Vince didn’t let anyone in, Tess. They’re from the Italian Stallion himself.”
My jaw almost hit the floor. “Let me see that.” But she was telling the truth. I read the card to myself: Congratulations on doing the Im-Pastable! Vince.
Gabby gave me a teasing grin. “My, my. I’ll bet that he doesn’t send flowers to all of his tenants.”
“I’m his only tenant.” At least I thought so. “We have a good time talking about cooking. The flowers are just a nice gesture on his part.” I went to the sink to wash my hands.
She gave me a thumbs-up. “Right. I’m just saying, the guy obviously has more on his mind than your tomato sauce and rent checks.”
I lifted mixing bowls out of the overhead cabinet. “It’s a good thing not everyone thinks the way you do.” Gabby watched as I poured semolina flour into a bowl, added eggs and salt, then dug my hands into the mixture. An immediate sense of calm washed over me as I formed the dough into a ball. Cooking was so relaxing for my mind—cheap therapy at its best.
Lou’s voice interrupted my solace. “Gabs, where are you?” he called.
“In the kitchen, babe.” Gabby winked at me. “Lou will never hear that phrase out of my mouth again. He knows that I can’t even boil water, but thank goodness he doesn’t seem to care.” She called out to him again. “Go through the dining area. Door on the right.”
Since it was only the three of us, Lou leaned down to kiss her and then nodded at me. “Hi, Tessa. Gee, I haven’t been in here since Slice closed. You’ve done a great job.”
“Thanks.” The comment warmed me from head to toe.
“I can still open the store back up soon, right?” Gabby’s face had become pinched tight with worry. “Why do I get the feeling something else has happened?”
Lou frowned. “I’m trying to keep my ears and eyes open, since I’m not supposed to be working this case. Frankly, I don’t have much more leverage than Gino. I can’t take statements or gather evidence because of our relationship, but Paddy has passed some information on to me.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Gabby remarked.
Lou suppressed a smile. “He even let me have a look at Daphne’s autopsy report. We won’t have toxicology results back for a while, but as suspected, Daphne died from something she ate.”
A light switch clicked on in my brain. “The cannoli were analyzed, right?”
He nodded. “Didn’t Gino tell you they found shrimp powder in them and that Daphne had an allergy to seafood?”
“Yes, he did. Sorry, what I actually meant to say—is it possible to get me a list of all the ingredients in the cannoli?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Lou arched a blond brow at me. “Why, what are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “But there’s always a chance that one of the ingredients, besides the shrimp powder, might tell us something. That’s the beauty with a recipe. The ingredients all have their own hidden secrets.”
Gabby clutched his arm. “Come on. I know there’s something else going on. I’m an expert at reading cop faces, remember.”
Lou’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “The autopsy revealed more than we expected.”
Gabby and I exchanged glances. “Such as?” she asked. “Was Daphne doing drugs? Or sick with some type of illness?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Impatience seeped into Gabby’s face. “For heaven’s sake, don’t keep us in suspense. What else did you find out?”
Lou’s expression was grim. “Daphne was four months pregnant.”
Nine
Gabby gasped out loud. “Are you sure?”
Lou nodded solemnly. “Autopsies don’t lie, Gabs.”
This was a new twist I hadn’t been suspecting. Was the baby Lorenzo’s? Preston’s? Or maybe someone else’s? I tried not to be judgmental, but Daphne had a reputation for promiscuity that dated back to high school. If sleeping with half of the varsity football team came with any accolades, Daphne would have been first in class.
Gabby’s mind must have been working the same way as mine. “Is there any way to determine who the father was?” she asked.
“Not unless you can get him to take a blood test or obtain DNA from him,” Lou replied. “We just can’t go around asking random guys to take one.”
“I’ll bet the baby was Preston’s,” Gabby mused. “Daphne would have done anything to sink her claws into him and his money.”
I tapped my fingers against the metal bowl. “But if we got the father to willingly submit to a test, you could find out if it was his baby, right?”
Lou regarded me with suspicion. “Yes, but why are you asking? Gino said he wanted you to ask Carlita a few questions, not conduct an inquisition.”
I hesitated. Lou was a great guy, but he was still a cop. Gabby and I had to be careful about the details we gave him. Even though Lou had a calmer demeanor than Gino, he’d still be upset if he knew what we were up to. “Oh, I’m only grasping at straws, that’s all.”
Lou’s phone beeped, and he stared down at the screen. “I have to go.” He gave Gabby a swift kiss. “I’ll call and let you know when the store can be reopened. It should be within the hour, but I need confirmation. Good seeing you, Tessa.”
“You too.” Gabby walked him to the front door, while I made another ball of dough. One was probably enough, but I enjoyed my kneading time. The dough would have to sit for a little while before I could cut it and feed it through my pasta machine. Pasta making was a long process that might seem tedious to some, but I loved every minute of it.
The clock on the wall read twelve thirty. I was behind schedule, but it couldn’t be helped. I hadn’t even had a chance to check Stephanie’s references yet. The cobwebs in my brain started to clear, and I closed my eyes, getting into a rhythm. My mind began to relax.
“Tess.” Gabby spoke quietly.
“Hmm?” I opened my eyes in surprise. I hadn’t even heard her come back in the room.
She grinned. “It’s like you’re in a different world when you’re cooking. A peaceful expression comes over your face. I was afraid to disturb you.”
“It’s my happy place. I’m sure yours is inhaling the scent of a brand-new box of books.”
Gabby pondered this for a moment. “I never thought about it like that before, but yeah, you’re right. We all have different passions. My newest one is discovering who left Daphne Daniels to die in my store.”
Someone had known about Daphne’s allergy and was most likely in the same room with her when she went into anaphylactic shock. Had they just stood there, watching her die? Did they know about the baby? “I have a little time before the vendors are due to come by. Why don’t we stop over at Sweet Treats and see if Lorenzo is there? Maybe we can talk to him while Carlita isn’t around.”
“She’s always around,” Gabby remarked. “The bakery is her home away from home.”
My mind went back to the alley that night. “After I witnessed the argument between Lorenzo and Daphne, he told me to forget I’d seen him there.”
Gabby’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “What do you think he meant by that?”
I shrugged. “Sounds to me like they were seeing e
ach other on the sly. Lorenzo still lives at home, so how was he getting cozy with Daphne? Carlita would never permit anything like that under her roof. Daphne said she lived in Saratoga, so I’m guessing they must have always spent time together at her place.”
Gabby snickered. “‘Spent time together.’ That’s being polite. Lorenzo might be a mama’s boy, but he does what he wants. Lou and I have seen him at On the Rocks having beers with plenty of women before. He’s twenty-six, Tess, and I don’t think he has a curfew.”
“No, I guess not.” I dusted two bowls with semolina flour, placed a ball of dough in each one, then covered both and set them aside. “All right, let’s go. The dough needs to rest for a while anyway.” I hung my apron on one of the brass hooks on the wall. “We’ll see if Lorenzo’s at the bakery. If he is, maybe you could distract Carlita so I can talk to him privately.”
After I’d washed my hands, we locked the door and took off in my car. “Do you want to come back here afterward?”
“Might as well, at least until Lou calls to say my store is all set.” Her expression was glum. “Tess, I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to close the store. This has been my dream since I was a little girl.”
“I remember. You were always reading Nancy Drew, while I only wanted to play dress-up with Barbie. You made me play bookstore with you, and I hated being the customer.”
She laughed. “I know you understand what it’s like. To want something so badly in this world that you’ll do almost anything to get it.”
I patted her hand. “Yes, I do, but you have to trust that everything will work out. Maybe you’ll even get more customers than before. This is terrible to say, but tragic events sometimes end up drawing more of a crowd.”
Gabby looked at me hopefully. “Do you really think so?”
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