Batter Off Dead

by Maymee Bell

“When did you know you wanted to be a pastry chef?” She asked that and a few other basic questions I’d been asked before in interviews. Then the questioning turned to what I’d say was the real meat of the interview and why she’d wanted me to do it. “For Goodness Cakes—love the name, by the way—was contracted to do the Heart of the Home fund-raiser given by Grape Valley Winery.”

  I swallowed because I knew what was coming next.

  “Can you give me a detailed account of exactly how you found Ray Peel?” She pushed the tape recorder a little closer toward me, to the edge of the desk.

  I hesitated. She must’ve sensed I was a little uncomfortable because she pulled a file out of the wire basket on the credenza behind her desk.

  “According to the police report”—she pushed her glasses even further up on her nose—“you were going back to the winery to get your payment when you tripped over Ray.”

  She pulled her glasses off and put one end in her mouth, easing back in the chair; she was going to wait me out.

  “Since you have the police report, I guess I can tell you. Ahem.” I cleared my throat and told her exactly what had happened.

  “Do you have any idea who would want Ray Peel dead?” she asked.

  “Why would I know that?” I questioned.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because your boyfriend is Carter Kincaid.” Her voice escalated. “And I’m sure he gives you some tidbits.”

  “No. Nope. I don’t teach him how to bake, and he doesn’t share with me how to solve murders.” I pinched my lips together.

  “What about your best friend Madison?” she asked. I could tell she was trying to read my body language. I made sure I sat perfectly still and showed no facial expressions. “I heard she was the number-one suspect.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I threw my hands in the air and all the body language I’d tried to stuff inside came flooding out. “She’s a mother of two and a very important, up-and-coming real estate agent who’d never hurt a fly, much less kill someone.”

  “You and Sheriff Kincaid are not agreeing on this matter?” She was poking the bear with her direct questions, and it worked.

  “Of course we aren’t,” I blurted out. “Madison only wanted a chance to be Ray’s real estate agent.”

  “Why did Ray Peel need a real estate agent?” she asked.

  When I’d walked into the newspaper office, I’d had no intention of permitting myself to fall for Lizbeth’s tricky way of getting people to talk. She’d done it over and over when we were younger, and now she’d done it again.

  “Do you think Catherine Fraxman did it? Because I heard her parents took out a second mortgage on their house for the initial loan of the half million, and Ray Peel was going to pay them back. Any truth to that?” She tapped the eraser of her pencil on the desk. “I’m sure they can’t really afford to pay a double mortgage.”

  “Where did you hear that?” I asked, enlightened by this bit of news.

  “I’ve got my sources.” An evil grinned flashed across her face.

  “I’ve said too much.” I grabbed a piece of paper and a stray pencil on her desk. I scribbled the new words for the ad and left it on the desk. I knew my flapping lips were going to get me in trouble. “Here is the new ad. Please run it in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “It’ll be in print before you even wake up.” She seemed very pleased with herself, which stuck with me until I got home.

  That wasn’t the only thing that stuck with me. If the bank was open, I’d stop there and see Bill Bellman, the loan officer, to find out exactly what he knew. He’d know for sure if what Lizbeth said about the Fraxman’s taking out a second mortgage was true. But why would they do that? Unless Ray Peel had promised he’d pay them back. No wonder Cat was so upset. It had to do with her family’s livelihood, and that would make a Southern girl mad. But mad enough to kill?

  I was so deep in thought, I found myself parked in my driveway without even realizing I was already home.

  “Good evening.” I bent down and picked up Duchess.

  She’d greeted me at the door with a happy purr. With her snuggled to my chest, I headed into the kitchen, turning lights on along the way. The days were getting longer, and I knew the spring weather would be turning into the warm sunny summer.

  “How was your day?” I asked Duchess. I looked out the window over the farm sink and watched the ducks swimming in the lake behind my house. “Mine was interesting. I still don’t know who put the ad in the paper. But someone did.”

  I sat her down and watched as she pranced around my legs. She was as silent and graceful as a trained ballerina. She was truly a duchess.

  “I had a meeting with Perry Dugan.” I walked to the pantry and retrieved a scoop of her kibble to put in her bowl. She sniffed and batted a couple of pieces before she started to eat. “He ordered the birthday cake for Reba, and it wasn’t just any birthday cake.”

  I closed the pantry door and looked at the chalkboard list of possible suspects.

  “He knew her favorite color, and he knew her favorite cake. I did too, so it wasn’t that surprising, but for a man that isn’t involved in the company …” I thought about how strangely he’d reacted when I’d asked him about Reba and Ray. “He also said Giles didn’t allow employee romances, but why would he say that about Ray?”

  I picked up the chalk and added Reba’s name to the list of people I needed to check out. The employee-relationship situation seemed pretty strange, so that was the first thing I needed to find out about. I also added the little bit about going to the bank to see Bill to check out what Lizbeth had told me. I wrote “Operation Merlot” at the top of the suspect list.

  The clock on the stove read 6:00 PM when the knock at the door brought me back to reality. It had to be Carter.

  Duchess ran in front of me, and when I opened it, there stood Carter with a bouquet of roses and a big smile.

  “I’m looking forward to just a relaxing night and catching up.” He held the flowers out in front of him. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve got to get changed.” I looked down at the dirty clothes that were dusted with flour and other baking ingredients. I pulled the door wide open. “Come on in.”

  Duchess meowed and batted her big brown eyes at him.

  “You’re the cutest little girl.” He handed me the flowers before he picked up Duchess. “Do you think I forgot something for you?” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a little bag of catnip.

  She jumped out of his arms and circled around his feet.

  “I’ll let you give her the treat while I go get changed.” I smiled and headed down the hall to my bedroom.

  Luckily, I had a lot of cute dresses that I’d gotten in boutiques while I lived in Manhattan. Things you couldn’t buy in Rumford. When we went to the new Italian restaurant, I was going to wear an electric blue shift dress that went perfectly with my strappy black sandals. On the way out of my bedroom, I grabbed the black shawl to slip around my shoulders in case there was a nip in the air after we’d eaten. You never knew about the seasonal weather in Kentucky. One minute it was warm, and the next was chilly.

  “She’s going to love you forever,” I called down the hall toward the kitchen as I walked into the bathroom to run the brush through my hair.

  I hurried up when I didn’t hear anything, and found Carter standing in front of the chalkboard.

  “Operation Merlot,” Carter murmured satirically. “Are you kidding me?”

  I exhaled loudly in exasperation.

  “I know you told me to stay out of it, but I think you’re looking at the wrong person.” It was going to be hard to keep my mouth shut.

  He shuffled his feet, licked his lips, and ran his hand through his hair—all signs that he wasn’t happy with me at all.

  “I like you—I really do.” He turned to me. His dark eyes narrowed as he frowned. “But I can’t have my girlfriend going around and trying to undo everything that her sheriff boyfriend has done in a homicide case.�
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  “I know.” I did know, but I couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just that there’s so much more that keeps coming up about this winery and the relationships.”

  “The evidence is the evidence, and right now it all points to Madison. More people have come forward saying she was seen at the scene, arguing with Ray. She also told several people she wished him dead.” His jaw tensed. “I’m not saying there’s not more out there, but you’ve got to let the department do the job we were trained to do.”

  “I know. I should stick to baking.” My face softened and I grinned. “Then look into these other things.” I stepped forward and pointed to the names. “Tammy has the most to lose. Her son was accepted into an Ivy League college, and I heard her say that she had to have the winery job in order to send him there. If Ray was going to kick them out, then she’d have no job but her old grocery job from before Giles opened the winery.”

  “What about Cat?” he asked. “What on earth did she do?”

  “She was counting on the money to pay off the loan. Though I don’t know what type of loan it was. It just seemed she was pretty upset. Money is big motive to kill someone, right?” I asked.

  He peered at me intently.

  “What?” I asked, my eyes darting back and forth from his.

  “You,” he whispered.

  A tingling feeling hit the pit of my stomach as I watched his obvious examination and approval of my dress.

  He walked over and pulled me into his arms.

  “You’re really cute when you do all this amateur sleuthing.” My heart pounded with each word he spoke. “What if I look into some of these things for you tomorrow, but tonight we get to enjoy us?”

  He didn’t give me time to answer before his lips touched mine, leaving me with a kiss that was sweeter than any dessert I could make.

  Chapter Twelve

  Café Italia was definitely not what I’d expected. The outside of the old Victorian home I’d driven by and seen all my life was no longer the house I remembered. Long gone was the clapboard siding, replaced with cement painted an orange-yellow. The windows were outlined in red, with black shutters on each side.

  The two-story home once had a double front porch with rocking chairs. The Southern charm had been replaced with red fencing and small café tables topped with checkered red table clothes. They’d used streetlamps with circular frosted glass to create what, in my mind, Italy would look like. Flowers and greenery hung from large flower boxes on the side of the house.

  “This is beautiful.” My mouth gaped open as I stared out the window. “Very romantic.”

  “Do you think this is what Italy really looks like?” Carter asked and put his car in park.

  “In my head, yes,” I sighed. I couldn’t wait to get inside.

  Like a true Southern gentleman, Carter got out of the car and ran around the front to open my door.

  “After you.” He took my hand and helped me out of the car.

  Both of us continued to look around the outside on our way up to the side door, which had been turned into the front door of the restaurant. The café tables were occupied, and the food on the plates made my mouth water.

  When we walked inside, a heavy curtain the same gray color as the building was neatly pinned to one side. The entire inside was open. The red brick walls and wood flooring were exactly what I’d always pictured an authentic Italian restaurant would have. The high bench seating, upholstered in red, wrapped around the entire restaurant, with dark wooden tables set for four people.

  The chandelier lights set in large beams were dimmed to help set the ambience, along with the lit candles in the center of the table. The place settings included striped red cloth napkins, huge wine glasses, and water glasses.

  “Table for Kincaid.” Carter held two fingers up when the hostess asked for our reservation. I continued to look around.

  “Right this way,” the hostess said. I recognized her voice.

  “Jane, how are you?” I knew her from the Rumford Country Club.

  “I’m good. You’re going to love the food here.” She grabbed two menus and turned on the balls of her feet.

  “Are you still waitressing at the RCC?” I asked and followed her to the table.

  “Yes. I’m doing both. It’s a little difficult on nights like tonight.” She put a menu in front of each us as we sat down. “I wasn’t supposed to work at the RCC tomorrow, but they had someone book a quick wine convention or something and needed the help.”

  “Wine convention?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Some sort of national tasters or something.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked between Carter and me. “So, you guys are still an item?” She dragged her finger from him to me.

  “We are.” Carter picked up the menu and looked it over. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

  “Yeah, I heard you weren’t so good.” She looked at me and shifted her weight to her right hip.

  “Me?” I asked. “The bakery is doing great.”

  “No. I mean another body.” There was a glint of wonder in her eye. “Remember when we found Emile dead?”

  “How can I forget?” I sighed. “I’m fine. I’m sure Carter will figure out all the particulars with Ray’s death.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Carter didn’t take his eyes off the menu. “Can you bring us a bottle of the house red wine?”

  “Sure.” Her mouth held a tight grin. It was apparent Carter didn’t want to talk about Ray Peel, but I did.

  I watched Jane disappear around the corner and couldn’t help but notice the bathroom sign also pointed that way.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the ladies’ room,” I said.

  Carter looked up from his menu and nodded. I couldn’t tell if it was a suspicious eye he was giving me or if it was the dark shadow due to the low lighting. Without looking back at him, I darted down the hall to find Jane.

  I peeked my head into the bathroom just to see what it looked like. It was unisex, and looked just like my bathroom at home. Nothing special. No big deal.

  There was a swinging door between the shop and the kitchen like the one at the bakery. I rose up on my tiptoes and looked through the galley window in the middle of the door. Jane was standing next to the workstation and looking down the line of dishes. It appeared she was trying to find the ones for her customers.

  “You’ll never know unless you ask,” I said, giving myself my own little pep talk. I looked over my shoulder before I pushed through the door, and all the kitchen staff turned.

  “Sophia.” Jane’s brows arched up high on her forehead, her eyes darting between me and some of the other employees of Café Italia. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Can I talk to you?” I jerked my head to the right in a gesture indicating a need for some privacy.

  “Um …” She pulled her hand from one of the plates. “Sure.” She turned to the guy next to her, who was dressed in the same uniform of black pants, black shirt, and white apron. “Brad, do you mind taking table four their appetizers?” She pointed to another door off the kitchen. “Let’s go in there, Sophia.”

  Once we were in the dry ingredients pantry and she shut the door behind us, I knew I had limited time before Carter became suspicious.

  “Just like before, one of my friends is a suspect, and I know she didn’t do it.” I bit my lip. “I heard Ray came in here the other night with someone. Have you seen him in here?”

  “Yeah. He was actually part owner.” Her words stopped me in my tracks. Part owner? “The house wine is from the Grape Valley Winery. He was a silent partner.” She leaned in and whispered, “He was here all the time with different women, and he drank a lot.”

  This put a whole new spin on what I was going to ask her.

  “Did you know any of the women?” I asked.

  “It’s so dark in here.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes up as though she were thinking.

  “What about short red hair? Fortyish?” I’d hoped to plac
e Reba here with him.

  “No. But I do remember nails.” She wiggled her fingers in front of her.

  “Nails?” I asked.

  “Yes. This really high-fashion woman who put the ladies of the RCC to shame was with him a few days ago, and I clearly remember her nails because she was raking them down the back of his neck,” she said.

  “Blonde?” I asked. She nodded. “Lanie Truvinski.”

  Jane snapped her fingers. “That’s her name. I knew it was something different from names around these parts. She was something. She was trying to get him to do something with the winery. I tried to linger, but I think Ray knew I was being a tad bit nosy, so he kept sending me for silly things like extra napkins. It wasn’t until she threw a glass of wine on him and stormed off that he said to me, ‘People only want me because of my money.’ ” She used a deep voice to imitate Ray Peel’s.

  “He said that to you?” I asked, hoping this would be a good lead.

  “Yep,” she said. The door flew open, a waitress came out, and both of us jumped. Jane continued, “Lizbeth from the newspaper was here that night, doing some shots for the restaurant. I wonder if she got any. I saw her talking to Lanie after she stormed off.”

  “Sorry.” The waitress looked more shocked than us. “I need some sugar.”

  “I need to get back to work.” Jane grabbed a bag of sugar and handed it to her. “Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

  “You were more help than you know.” I gave her a quick thank-you and asked her to keep what we’d talked about between her and me. I also made a mental note to check the paper and see if there was something about the Café Italia’s grand opening. “You know how weird Carter was about me snooping with Emile’s death. I just want to check things out for myself.”

  We walked back out into the working kitchen. The chef was calling out food and putting the dishes on the pickup island. There were people rushing around with trays and yelling out orders.

  “If you can get your friend cleared, like you did Evelyn Moss, it’ll be worth it.” Jane grabbed a big, round black tray and put a couple plates of spaghetti and a loaf of bread on it. “If your friend is innocent.” She hoisted the tray onto her right shoulder.