by Krista Davis
I remembered seeing a tomato tart among Tilly’s recipes and planned to look it up when I was distracted by Nina’s new autumn decorations. The short sidewalk to her house was lined symmetrically with fall items that graduated in size. It began with large gourds, followed by flowering purple cabbages and yellow and red mums. At the very end, next to her door, were two tall urns. They were packed with orange mums, miniature pumpkins, cascading white flowers, and spiraling branches that reached upward. It was elegant and eye-catching.
Nina stepped out of her house. “What do you think?”
“It puts the rest of us to shame. That’s amazing.”
“I’m pretty happy with it. I may not have arranged it, but I selected the parts.” She followed me across the street to my house.
As I unlocked the door, she said, “You won’t believe what happened!”
For a second, I was worried. “Not another death?”
“Not that I know of. Natasha invited me to her dinner party tonight!”
“She likes you more than she lets on.”
“I thought she’d never forgive me after the pie throw-down. I’m definitely going. I can’t wait to see her sister. Do you suppose they look alike?”
“Hard to tell. I know three sisters who all have similar features. You can see they’re related. But I don’t think Hannah and I look alike.”
I located the recipe and pulled out ingredients for the crust.
“Any word on Abby’s murder?”
I filled her in on the gruesome details. While I was still talking, Nina used her phone to pull up the police sketch of the woman found in Abby’s freezer.
I was slicing juicy red and yellow tomatoes when Nina brought her phone over to me.
The woman in the freezer was older than I had expected. Squarely middle-aged, she had a broad jaw and prominent eyebrows. There was a mole on the left side of her face.
Nina read aloud. Police request assistance in identifying this woman thought to be in her fifties. She has chin-length auburn hair. She is wearing black jeans, a black Henley sweater, and a black leather jacket. Please notify Alexandria Police if you recognize her.
“I’ve never seen her around, have you?” I asked.
“I always feel like I know everyone, but evidently there are a lot of people in town who run in different circles.”
Chapter 12
Dear Natasha,
I threw a dinner party for some people I wanted to impress. One of my guests brought dessert! I thought that was highly irregular and somewhat offensive. Did she think I wasn’t capable of pulling off a nice dinner including dessert?
Offended in Sandwich, Massachusetts
Dear Offended,
You are correct to be offended. A dinner invitation implies that food will be provided by the hostess. I hope that you were kind enough to make that clear to her so she won’t make that mistake again!
Natasha
At six thirty, I changed into black slacks and a V-necked lace top with elbow-length sleeves. I pulled my hair back and pinned it into a bun. I knew towering high heels were still the rage, but I also knew I would immediately twist, if not break, my ankle if I wore them. The brick sidewalks of Old Town were charming but not ideal for stilettoes. I opted for comfortable black flats. I was short, but heels wouldn’t make me significantly taller, anyway. A pair of dangling earrings with hearts on them and I was ready to meet Natasha’s half sister.
I fed Daisy and Mochie, packed up my tomato tart, and walked across the street and down a few doors to the house that Natasha and Mars had bought together. Even though they had split up, she still lived in the house. From Mars’s comments, I gathered that they hadn’t come to an agreement yet regarding the house.
A pot of golden mums decorated each step as I walked up the stairs to the front door of the red brick house. At the very top I knocked on the door.
Natasha swung it open. “Oh. It’s you.” She wedged past me and looked out on the street.
I stepped inside and she followed. I handed the tomato tart to Natasha.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Well, this wasn’t necessary! Perhaps I’ll put this in the freezer.”
I had my doubts about freezing it, but it was her decision. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.” I had clearly irritated her by bringing it. “I take it your sister isn’t here yet?”
Natasha’s lips drew thin in disapproval. “I hope Charlene’s not one of those fashionably late types who makes everyone wait.”
“I’m sure she’ll be here soon. Have you told your mom about her?”
Natasha fingered the tight gold necklace on her throat. “Maybe you can help me decide the best course of action after we meet her. I don’t want to keep anything from my mom, but it will be such a bitter pill for her to know for certain that it was us my dad didn’t want. I always suspected as much, but my mom has always clung to the hope that he lost his way and didn’t remember where he came from.”
My heart ached for Natasha. For all her bravado, at heart Natasha was still the little girl whose dad had abandoned her and her mom. My own mother thought that was the reason Natasha had such high expectations of herself. She tried so hard to be what she thought was perfect. I guessed that could be the result of feeling rejected by the one man most children knew they could count on, no matter what. Maybe my mom was right. Natasha felt she wasn’t good enough for her dad, and that was why he left. She needed to be perfect to prove something to him and to herself.
“The house looks beautiful,” I said. It did, even if she had painted the dining and living room walls charcoal. It was in vogue and provided a good backdrop for her ultramodern furniture. From the inside of the house, there wasn’t so much as a hint that it was a historic building.
“Thank you. I’m about to change the paint. I led the way with gray and charcoal. I have a feeling it’s time to move to a new color palette. What do you think of 1970s orange?”
I was honest. “I tend to prefer lighter colors for walls, like a salmon maybe.”
“Mmm, yes. You’ve never followed the chic trends, have you?” She led me down the stairs and out to her patio. “I believe you know everyone. I’ll just put this tart away.”
Vintage-style pear-shaped lights glowed golden on strings that crisscrossed in the air over Natasha’s brick patio. A long table had been spread with a beige cloth, and a matching white and beige runner stretched from one end to the other. Votive lights serpentined the length of the table with generous sprigs of rosemary winding between them. White napkins were rolled up and tied with natural twine. She had written our names on place cards that were framed in the same twine.
I spied Mars and Nina speaking with a man who had his back to me. When I walked over to join them, he turned toward me.
He was the guy I had seen removing a soda can from the garbage. The spy.
Chapter 13
Dear Sophie,
A group of my friends has begun throwing elaborate dinner parties. I can cook well enough to get by, but last night I was faced with no less than three forks! How do I know which one to use?
Embarrassed in Forks of Salmon, California
Dear Embarrassed,
Work your way from the outside in. The first course will probably be an appetizer. That will be the smallest fork on the far left. Relax and enjoy the dinner. If you’re confused, watch your hostess and follow her example.
Sophie
I hoped I didn’t show my shock.
“You’re the one who followed me,” he said.
I could feel my face flushing. “Who are you?”
“If you don’t know me, why did you follow me?” he asked.
“Because I was curious. Your turn. Who are you?”
“Benton Bergeron.”
I was pretty sure my mouth dropped open. I snapped it shut and swallowed hard. “Bergeron? Like Abby Bergeron?” I asked.
“Exactly like that.” He smiled at me. “Abby is my exwife.”
Nina giggled. “Mars is Sophie
’s ex-husband. Am I the only one who can hold onto a spouse around here?”
“That’s because your husband is always traveling,” quipped Mars.
“I’ve seen you around town,” said Benton.
If I hadn’t observed that two-second maneuver with a soda in the trash, I might have liked him. He had blue eyes, a square jaw, and remarkably symmetrical features. In a way, he was quite plain because none of his features were extraordinary. No distinctive nose or cleft chin. He didn’t have Mars’s adorable factor, but he could have played a leading role in a romantic movie. Still, I was leery of him.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” I lied. I was a little bit ashamed that my next thought was whether I could get some information about Abby from him. “I wish I’d had a chance to meet Abby.”
Benton took a deep breath. “Is that the weirdest thing? I was certain she was dead. I can’t tell you how I dreaded going to identify her. And then to find out it wasn’t her? Now I don’t know what to think. It would be completely out of character for her to kill anyone, yet they found that woman in her freezer.”
“Did she have any issues that could have caused her to act irrationally?” asked Mars.
Well put, Mars. Nicely worded without accusing her of anything.
“No. Abby would never have harmed anyone. When pushed to her limit, Abby was the type to walk away.”
“So she probably ran away and is in hiding somewhere?” asked Nina.
“All I can imagine is that she went to stay with her sister. But I called her, and she says Abby isn’t there.”
Oh! That was intriguing. I wondered if it was true. I would lie for my sister if she was running from an ex-husband. “Abby didn’t say anything to you about being afraid or needing to get away?”
“You know how it is with ex-spouses. You don’t always tell them everything that’s going on in your life,” said Benton.
Especially if one of them is a spy, I thought.
Benton continued. “Mars might know more about Abby’s plans than me. The police have questioned me twice now, but I honestly don’t know what happened.”
Ouch! He was throwing Mars under the bus already. The only plus for Mars was that Wolf knew him well. Of course, Wolf would never let that interfere with an investigation, but it probably helped to some degree.
Larry Fiedler called me over. A local anesthesiologist, he had lost his wife the year before and was just beginning to get out and socialize again.
As I joined him and Helbert Sullivan, it dawned on me that Natasha had only invited eligible men to her dinner party. Helbert, a tall and scrawny man with deep-set eyes, ran an investment company. His wife had left him, but the local scuttlebutt had it that Helbert had shrewdly insisted on a prenuptial agreement that protected his vast holdings.
“Have you met Natasha’s half sister yet?” asked Larry in a whisper.
“No. I know nothing about her. Why are we whispering?” I asked.
“She should have been here by now.” Helbert checked the Breitling watch on his wrist.
“Maybe she chickened out,” said Larry. “Natasha has very high standards. I would hate to be related to her. Honestly, she intimidates me! Did you see the array of silverware on the table? Which fork do I use?”
I never would have expected it of him. “Start on the outside and work your way in. But you might have a point about Natasha. If the half sister caught Natasha’s TV show, she might have gotten cold feet. It’s hard enough to meet a sibling for the first time without that person being a local celebrity.”
Natasha tinkled a little crystal bell and called, “Dinner is served.”
I happened to be close to the table, and when I turned around, I caught Mars with his place card in his hand. He deftly swapped it with another one.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“She had me sitting opposite her at the end of the table, like we’re married or still an item. I want to be supportive, but I’m not playing that game.”
I hoped Natasha wouldn’t make a scene.
“Sophie,” she trilled. “Could you give me a hand?”
I walked up the outdoor stairs and joined her in the kitchen. Natasha had installed a gray and silver kitchen long before it was popular. It was sleek, but cold as ice. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I have everything under control except for Charlene. Where could she be?”
“Did you check your phone?”
“Only a million times.”
“Maybe she lost her nerve. It’s a pretty big deal to meet your sister for the first time!”
“What if she’s just rude and inconsiderate?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Then you’ll be like all the rest of us. Everyone has relatives who aren’t perfect.”
“Oh no, she’s like my mom,” she moaned. “Wait! She doesn’t share genes with my mother. That’s a relief. But I had hoped Charlene might be like me. Why can’t I have any normal relatives?”
I had no idea what to say. “Natasha, everyone is different. She might not match up to the standards you impose on yourself.”
“Obviously not,” she snorted angrily. “If she did, she would be here searching for her place card at the table. Well, I guess we’ll go on without her. I don’t see the point in waiting any longer.”
“Now can I give you a hand?”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t require your services.”
When I returned to the table, I realized that Mars might not have been the only person playing Move-the-Place-Card. Everyone else had been seated, which left me with no choice but to sit opposite Benton.
Natasha proudly served her appetizer of crisped pancetta and figs. I had to give her credit. They were actually tasty, if tiny.
“I must apologize to you all,” said Natasha primly. “Our guest of honor isn’t answering her phone and seems to have disappeared. I hope you will enjoy your dinner in spite of her absence.”
“I’m sorry that we won’t meet her,” said Nina. “If I were you, I would be dying to see what she looks like!”
“I admit that I am quite curious.” Natasha sighed. “But I suppose it won’t happen this evening.”
Natasha’s backyard was fenced. Next to the alley that ran behind the house were a detached garage and a workshop for her crafts with a tiny apartment over top of them. In the darkness, I thought I saw something move near the workshop, but as I watched, nothing more happened. It was probably a neighborhood cat.
The next course of cold pea soup arrived in demitasse cups, prompting Larry to whisper to me, “Will she serve anything that’s more than a bite or a sip of food?”
I thought he might have regretted that thought after taking a bite of scallop that she had seared beautifully but topped with a peanut sauce that left my tongue numb. I rushed to the kitchen for a pitcher of water and refilled glasses of water and wine before Natasha began to serve the main course.
Benton whispered, “Has anyone else lost feeling in their tongue?”
Happily, the main course turned out to be a crusted prime rib roast with duchesse potatoes.
After one bite, Helbert gasped and drank an entire glass of ice water. “Is it supposed to taste like campfire ashes?” he murmured.
I kicked him under the table and pointed to my plate. “That’s the charcoal. Very trendy. Cut off the outer edges,” I hissed. The interior was perfect. It was a pity that she insisted on lacing it with charcoal.
It dawned on me as we ate that we were dining with the top two suspects in the murder at Abby’s house. Benton and Mars drew that dubious distinction. Nevertheless, both were in good spirits and proved to be delightful company. I was even warming up to Benton.
Just past his right elbow, I could see the spot in Natasha’s yard where I thought something had moved. I couldn’t make out anything now that it was completely dark.
Benton leaned toward me. “It’s probably terrible form to ask out a woman when her ex-husband is in the room.”
<
br /> Oh, dear heaven. I hadn’t seen this coming. He was definitely attractive and had been interesting all evening, funny and well mannered. Would it be a bad thing to date a spy?
“Maybe we could have coffee tomorrow?” he asked with a hint of a smile.
Coffee. I could do that. Maybe he was actually as nice as he seemed. “I’d like that.” The words slipped out of my mouth far too easily, before I could entertain second thoughts.
When Natasha collected plates, my gaze drifted back to the spot behind Benton. “Excuse me. I feel like there’s something in the grass. Maybe a kitten or a lost pup.”
Benton accompanied me out on the lawn.
“I thought it was right about here—” We both screamed when an arm flailed in the air.
Chapter 14
Dear Natasha,
I have a brother-in-law who always arrives late to dinner parties. I have to include him because the oaf is married to my sister. She’s wise to him and drives herself now. When he arrives, do I have to wait on him and bring him each course?
Miffed in Cranberry, Pennsylvania
Dear Miffed,
He’s lucky if you offer him food at all! What audacious manners. The correct thing to do is to serve him what the others are eating at that time. If they are on dessert, there is no need to serve him any of the previous courses. If he leaves hungry, perhaps he will learn.
Natasha
In spite of our shock, Benton and I edged closer.
I could hear footsteps pounding on the ground as others ran toward us. A flashlight suddenly lighted the grass and found the person’s bruised face. Dried blood was caked in her hair and near her nose.