The Diva Spices It Up

by Krista Davis

  He continued, “Finally, there’s one that says, ‘Police have dropped all charges against Abigail Jensen in the matter of the kidnapping of two-year-old Peyton Poulon due to lack of evidence. The case remains open, and police continue to investigate.’ ”

  “So she got off! Maybe she didn’t do it. But why would she write Peyton’s name in code?”

  “She was obviously trying to alert someone. But why write the code? Why not tell someone?” asked Mars. “She could have told me at dinner. That would have been a lot more interesting than her stories about Benton.”

  Mars shook his head. “This is crazy. The code is probably meaningless and we’re reading something into it that was never intended. Plus, it’s stupid to leave a message in code. Most people would have thrown these codes out. Who would have noticed them besides the next ghostwriter?”

  “It wasn’t the best choice, but maybe she thought Benton would see them. There is a chance that he’s a spy.”

  Mars laughed. “Will you stop with that? He’s not a spy.” “I told you about the Coke can in the trash.”

  “That was strange but I don’t think it means he’s a spy. But I’ll grant you that he clearly likes to play games.” Mars sat back and mused. “He’s quite sociable. I enjoyed his company at Natasha’s dinner.”

  “I’m going to call Wolf.” I pulled out my phone and pressed his number on the keypad.

  He answered right away.

  “I think Abby may have left a message.”

  “Like a note? You’re just now finding it?”

  “It’s complicated. I think you should see it.”

  “I’ll be by shortly.”

  I cleaned up the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. When he didn’t show up right away, I busied myself by creating an apple tart using store-bought puff pastry. While it baked, I whipped sweetened cream to spoon on top of each slice.

  Mars sat at the banquette, concentrating on a computer search.

  Wolf arrived just as I was taking the tart out of the oven. He took a deep breath. “I smell cinnamon.”

  “You’ve timed your visit perfectly,” I said, getting out vintage dessert plates and matching coffee cups, which were white in the center with a scalloped blue edge.

  I placed a slice on each plate, poured the coffee, and brought it all to the table with a bowl of sweetened whipped cream. I added napkins, dessert forks, spoons, cream, and sugar.

  “It’s not often I receive this kind of service when investigating a murder,” said Wolf.

  “I’m surprised you came at all after Sophie’s ill-thought-out request to check the blood in Abby’s house against Charlene’s blood,” said Mars.

  I sat down to join them.

  Wolf’s mouth twisted to the side. “Turns out I may have been hasty about that. We did the comparison in a four-hour DNA tester that we’re trying out, and Sophie was right. They’re a match. Unless Charlene bled at Abby’s house some other time, it’s likely she was present when Mia was murdered.”

  Mars’s eyes met mine.

  “Do you think Charlene murdered Mia?” I was having trouble wrapping my head around that development.

  “Last night your theory was that Fred Conway beat up Charlene and that Abby is in hiding.” Mars ate a bite of the tart.

  “To be honest, it complicates matters.” Wolf held his coffee cup and looked at me. “Where’s this message you found from Abby?”

  Mars and I showed him the codes Abby had written and explained how they worked. “And it spells out Peyton Poulon, who was kidnapped at age two while she was in Abby’s care.”

  Mars opened his laptop and turned it so Wolf could see the screen.

  Wolf laid his fork on his dessert plate. Silently, he read the brief articles about Abby being arrested and released. He ate the rest of his apple tart and gulped coffee.

  His phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grinned. “There are a lot of sleuths in your neighborhood.”

  “Nina or Francie?” I asked.

  “Both.” Wolf looked from me to Mars. “Think you two can keep this under your hats for the time being? If, and I emphasize if, Abby discovered Peyton and her kidnapper living among us, we don’t want said kidnapper to find out and bolt. And there’s the issue of the kid finding out. We would need a DNA confirmation and a psychologist to break the news to her. This isn’t something we can blab about. Understood?”

  Mars held his palms up in the air. “No problem here.”

  “Sophie?” asked Wolf.

  “Of course. The kidnapper did a great job staying under the radar for thirteen years. We don’t want that to happen again.”

  “I’m sorry to run, but I need to check out a few things and I have to stop by Francie’s place. Good work, you two!” He rose from his chair. “Thanks for lunch.”

  He wasn’t looking as tired anymore. Peyton Poulon, whoever she was, had invigorated him. “Do you think they would mind if I came with you?” I asked.

  “Probably not. It’s something about a suitcase.”

  We left Mars in the kitchen and departed through the French doors in my living room. Outside, we used the gate in the fence that surrounded my house.

  Francie opened the kitchen door, where we found Benton Bergeron looking bereft.

  He sat at the farmhouse-style table between Eunice and Sam. The suitcase lay on top of the table, open wide so the contents could be seen.

  Eunice introduced Sam to Wolf. I hung back, staying quiet so I wouldn’t interfere.

  Benton said bluntly, “It’s hers. There’s no question.”

  Wolf eyed the clothes. “How do you know?”

  “I recognize some of the contents. And I carried this suitcase for Abby many times. The silk scarf was a birthday gift from me several years ago.”

  Eunice reached over and clutched Benton’s hand. “I’m sorry, Benton.”

  “Sorry for what?” asked Wolf.

  I was surprised by his question. Didn’t the suitcase in the water confirm that something terrible must have happened to Abby?

  Benton licked his lips. “It’s not good news in any event. Either Abby threw her suitcase in the river or someone else did. Either way, it won’t end well.”

  “Why would Abby throw her suitcase in the river?” asked Francie.

  Wolf remained mum. I thought he was watching Benton.

  Sam finally said, “Perhaps it’s not as ominous as you think. She might have meant to throw us off. To make it look like someone else did it so she could start a new life and we would all assume that she was deceased.”

  A tragic silence filled the room.

  I tried to break the gloom by asking a question that had been on my mind. “Benton, Tilly told me that she overheard Abby asking if ‘the squirrel had landed’ on a phone call. Does that mean anything to you?”

  He bowed his head for a couple of minutes as if he was composing himself. “She was talking to me. It was a silly joke between the two of us. We watched a movie once where someone used the line ‘the eagle has landed’ and we laughed about it. We thought in our lives it would have been a squirrel. It was just a silly thing we said. My nephew had returned from a math competition in Florida. So in this case, he was the squirrel who was back home.”

  Wolf excused himself to make a phone call. He returned quickly. “Please refrain from touching the suitcase or its contents. A crime scene investigator will be by this afternoon to collect it. Thank you for assisting us in this case. I’m glad you didn’t throw the suitcase out, Sam. Good call.”

  I left with Wolf through Francie’s front door. He was solemn as we stepped outside. Just before I turned left to my house, Wolf said, “Be careful, Sophie. Someone went to great lengths to prevent us from knowing about Peyton.”

  He was right. Just because we had unraveled Abby’s message didn’t mean we should let our guard down. When I walked into my kitchen, the dishes had been washed and put away, and Daisy pranced around me, letting me know that she was due for a walk. I grabbed the halter and w
as in the process of fastening it when Mars whooped from the den.

  Daisy and I flew in to see what was going on.

  Mars was grinning ear to ear. Mochie, who was curled up next to him on the sofa, had opened one eye.

  “I found the connection between Jericho and Wesley. It took a little digging, but I’m onto something now.”

  “Does it involve Peyton?”

  “No.” He scowled at me like I had ruined his fun. “But they went to the same college at the same time and they were fraternity brothers.”

  Chapter 29

  Dear Sophie,

  My family loves to eat Chinese takeout with everyone trying all the dishes. But it grosses me out when my brother licks his chopsticks and then sticks them in the carton to serve himself more food. Eww. I say he should use a serving spoon for that. Don’t you agree?

  Smart Sister in China, Texas

  Dear Smart Sister,

  Tell your brother that the thick ends of his chopsticks are for helping himself to food. The thin ends are for eating.

  Sophie

  “Gosh, I’m sure that’s illegal,” I said drolly.

  “Don’t you see? That’s why I’m sitting on your couch and Jericho has my job. Jericho knows Wesley’s secret.”

  “Do you think Jericho is blackmailing Wesley?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. Don’t underestimate Mars Winston. I will get to the bottom of this.”

  “And I shall take Daisy for a nice long walk. Thanks for doing the dishes.”

  I locked the kitchen door behind us when we left. As we strolled I noticed a lightpost with chalk on it. I slowed down, not wanting to be too obvious. Was there another person marking posts in Old Town? Or was that Benton’s handiwork again?

  A teenage boy walked past me. He glanced back and grinned. I didn’t think he was smiling at me. He had a sweet boyish face with brown eyes. A curl of his unruly golden brown hair flopped onto his forehead. He turned around and ambled along the sidewalk.

  I was enjoying the fall decorations. It seemed as if everyone was eager to leave summer behind. Daisy and I crossed the street and watched the same teen boy pause to eye the decorative pumpkins and dried cornstalks.

  He walked up to a gatepost. A tall urn, very much like Nina’s, stood beside it.

  I stopped walking to observe him.

  He stared at the urn briefly before lifting a small yellow pumpkin. He snatched something from the urn, replaced the pumpkin, and strolled away.

  I debated whether to shout at him. Part of me thought I should stop him, but part of me wondered what a flower urn could possibly hold that he would want.

  Before I could decide, he rounded the corner and disappeared.

  I hurried forward for a better look at the urn. It had a wide top. Two plants of orange mums filled the back, and on the front, straw acted as a support for the small pumpkin he had lifted. It was distinctive because of a thick and curiously curling dried vine attached to the top. I raised it. Nothing was underneath it. I flipped over the pumpkin. It looked perfectly ordinary.

  I replaced the pumpkin and gazed around. Nothing appeared to be out of place or unusual. What was that about? Daisy and I walked to the corner. Numerous people went about their business, but there was no sign of the boy.

  Still wondering what he had been doing, I strolled over to Eunice’s house. The front door was open, so Daisy and I walked inside. The area to my left, formerly the dining room, looked like a demolition zone. I was pleased to see they hadn’t ripped out the beautiful old moldings.

  “May I help you?”

  The man’s voice came from behind and startled me. By the time I turned around, he was already squatting to pet Daisy.

  “I’m Sophie, a friend of Eunice’s and Francie’s. I hope you don’t mind. I saw the door was open and thought I’d check on your progress.”

  He rose to his feet and shook my hand. He had a firm grip but rough hands that let me know he did a lot of the work himself. He wore his hair cut short. Muscles strained against the short sleeves of his shirt. “Cal Simons. They said you might stop by. You’re interested in renovating a bathroom?”

  “I am. Maybe you could come by sometime and have a look?”

  “I’d be happy to do that.”

  He pulled a tiny well-worn pad from his pocket and wrote my address. “As you can see, we’re converting the dining room into a dual-use room. Eunice can use it as a bedroom and bathroom if she prefers to live on one floor. If she decides to sleep upstairs or sell the house, it can be used as an office or a dining room.”

  I followed him into a framed area.

  “This will be the bathroom with a shower she can roll a wheelchair or a walker into.”

  I was doubtful. “Won’t the water splash out?”

  He grinned. “They made this great material that compresses under wheels but pops right back up to keep water from running out. She can have shower doors if she wants, but I usually recommend curtains for my elderly clients. They’re easier to keep clean, and doors can get in the way. They’re difficult if you’re in a wheelchair.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done this a few times.”

  “I think my name is being passed around among older residents. I love these old houses, but they’re tough if you can’t negotiate stairs.”

  “Francie mentioned an elevator?”

  “We’re waiting on approval for it.” He motioned for me to follow him. “I think we can fit it right here. She wouldn’t lose too much space. I hope it works out. It would give her full use of the house. No more sleeping in the recliner unless she wants to nap there.”

  “I’m very impressed.”

  “So is Francie. She wants me to come over and enlarge her first-floor bedroom with a bathroom like Eunice will be getting.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll be spending quite a bit of time on our block this fall.”

  “I might. You haven’t even seen the best part.”

  He led me through the kitchen and out to the back patio. “We’re getting rid of the stairs and creating an elevated deck so Eunice can come outside and get some fresh air without being afraid of falling. See where the deck box is?”

  “Behind the two chairs?”

  “Exactly. Right about there, it will serpentine downward to the garage and gate so she can get to her car, or someone like Francie can come to pick her up and go out on the town. And it will all be smooth concrete. No more uneven brick to trip on. Francie plans to plant some perennials that won’t need much attention around the sides. Life will look a little different for Eunice when we’re done here.”

  I shuddered to imagine what it would all cost. But it would restore Eunice’s way of life and enable her to live in her beloved home for many more years. No one could put a price on that.

  When I left, I looked forward to hearing Cal’s ideas for my bathroom. He seemed like a knowledgeable guy.

  Daisy and I continued our walk, this time in the direction of Fred’s house. I didn’t want him to think I was snooping, even though I was. I should have asked Benton for tips on how to look innocent while spying. I observed Fred’s house from the corner, far enough away not to seem intrusive. We crossed the street, and when we reached the alley behind his house, we turned and ambled along as though we were simply out for a walk. Which was actually the truth. I didn’t expect to see anything of particular interest.

  A fence enclosed his backyard and I couldn’t see anything. But I could see the second story of his house. It was unremarkable, as plain as the interior.

  It wasn’t as though I had expected to see anything sinister. Not everyone was warm and fuzzy, I reasoned. Maybe he was just a private sort of guy. I wondered if he had been over to the hospital to see Charlene.

  We walked home, and the minute we entered the house, Mars yelled from the den, “Do you know there are tiles missing in your shower?”

  “Yes, thank you. I am aware of that.” I removed Daisy’s halter and refilled her bowl with fresh cold wate
r.

  Mars strolled into the kitchen and poured coffee into his mug. “Do you need a loan?”

  “Are you offering?”

  “Sure.”

  “If I recall correctly, I’m getting a nice little paycheck from Tilly.”

  “So you are. Unless Tilly and Wesley are in the slammer for stealing Peyton-slash-Briley.”

  The thought hadn’t even entered my mind. “I guess I’d better hustle and finish up. I’m going to run by the hospital to see how Charlene is doing. I should pick up some groceries. What would you like for dinner?”

  “Chinese. I never get Chinese anymore because I’m always at The Laughing Hound. I’ll order and pick it up.”

  That suited me. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”

  I walked out to my hybrid SUV and drove over to the hospital. I recognized Natasha’s car in the parking lot and peeled in next to it. Inside, I asked for directions to Charlene Smith’s room.

  I found it easily, but seeing her brought back memories of my former boyfriend who had been badly injured. No one else was in the room. Charlene’s face was swollen and bruised but not bandaged. I thought that might be a good sign.

  I knew her mom, Griselda, had been there. Small stones lay beside her pillow. I recognized amethyst and tiger’s-eye. There were also pink and black stones.

  Her left leg was in a cast and propped up on a pillow.

  I touched her hand. “Charlene?” I said softly. “It’s Sophie Winston. I’m a friend of Natasha’s.”

  She didn’t react in any way. I took her hand and held it in mine. “A lot of people miss you. Natasha has always wanted a little sister. Want to hear something funny? Your mothers are so much alike!”

  “That’s what Natasha tells me.” Griselda spoke from the doorway. Natasha stood behind her.

  “How’s Charlene doing?”

  “Believe it or not, much better.” Griselda checked the monitor attached to Charlene. “When I arrived here, they told me I’d better say my goodbyes. Of course, I brought my own medicine. They can tell you stones and herbs don’t make a difference, but they do.”