The Diva Cooks up a Storm

by Krista Davis

  “They’ll all think I killed him for his money. Please, Sophie. I don’t have anyone to turn to. They’re going to arrest me.” She paced the floor. “I thought about leaving town. Just running like I did when I was young. Maybe I should do that. I’m not sure I could pull it off anymore. Times are different. There are cameras everywhere. They’d find me for sure.”

  Oh no. Hollis was right. Why, oh why, didn’t he leave her? My breath caught in my throat. “Kelsey, did you kill Hollis?” I asked as gently as I could.

  “Of course not. What is it about a twenty-year age difference that makes everyone suspect me? Or is it just me? Because I’m not a socialite? It’s easier to blame me and be done with it all than to have to face the truth.”

  “What is the truth?”

  “Sophie, with Hollis gone, there’s no one in the world to look out for me. Please, Sophie! I need your help. No one will care about me. Don’t you see? They’re going to railroad me.” Her breath was ragged and uneven. She watched me with frantic eyes.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I said softly, hoping I was right.

  Her chest heaved, and when she exhaled her breath shuttered out in ripples. She gasped for air and began to cough. She bent forward and sucked in great gasps of air.

  I grabbed her arm and hustled her to the closest chair, one by the fireplace in my kitchen. She collapsed on it.

  I searched the pantry for a small paper bag and handed it to her. She placed the opening over her nose and mouth. The bag reminded me of a third lung the way it inflated and deflated. With the bag still over her mouth, she said, “Sophie, something weird is happening.”

  I gave her some time to recover and returned to chopping cabbage. I tossed it all into a giant bowl and started to peel carrots.

  After a short hacking fit, she seemed to be able to breathe more normally again.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you. A glass of water?”

  I popped one of the sad ice cubes into a glass and added water. When I brought it to her, she held it to her cheek first.

  Since the food processor wasn’t available, I shredded carrots with the vegetable peeler, hoping that if I worked calmly, she would relax. I tossed the carrots into the bowl, then chopped two sweet onions and four crisp apples and added them to the bowl as well. I pulled out a four-cup measuring glass, added sugar, dark brown sugar, bright yellow mustard, delicious smoked paprika, celery seeds, apple-cider vinegar, and a hefty helping of creamy mayonnaise and whisked it all together.

  Kelsey watched quietly as I poured it over the cabbage and turned it all several times. I stashed it in a cooler on ice cubes, then turned my attention to her.

  I walked over and perched on the other fireside chair, my body positioned toward her. “Do you want to talk, or do you want me to call Alex and arrange for you to speak with him?”

  “Both.” Her voice was so faint I had a hard time hearing her.

  “Okay. I’ll call Alex first.” I figured his office wasn’t open, so I called his cell phone and explained the situation. He promised to come right over. I hung up the phone and smiled at Kelsey. “He’s on his way.”

  I had mixed feelings about prying. While I was itching to know what was going on, I didn’t relish the idea of being a spy for Wolf or having to testify against her.

  I rose and put on water to make big batches of tea for dinner. I opened a cabinet and pulled out giant pitchers. “We’re all having dinner here tonight. You’ll come, won’t you?” No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I wondered if I had invited a killer.

  She nodded and gazed at me. “Can I do something to help you?”

  “Thanks, but Bernie’s bringing most of the food. I’m just getting iced tea ready. I hope he has ice!”

  Alex rapped on the kitchen door as a formality as he opened it and walked inside.

  I made quick introductions and was fascinated by the fact that Kelsey sat up straight and wiped her face with her fingers.

  There was no doubt that Alex was good-looking, and since she had married Hollis, she clearly didn’t have an issue with older men. Not that he was old, just older than Kelsey.

  “Maybe we could go into the living room to speak privately?” asked Alex.

  “That’s not necessary,” said Kelsey. “I would have told Sophie everything that happened anyway.”

  Alex frowned. “All right, but I may stop you if I think there’s anything Sophie shouldn’t hear.”

  Kelsey seemed surprised. “Okay.” She told him about Angus and the bees and then about Hollis’s death.

  Alex focused on her intently.

  “So when The Bee Man came today, he discovered that most of the outside bees were alive, but the bees inside the house were dead.”

  Alex looked over at me and tilted his head.

  He was very cute when he did that, like a confused dog. I couldn’t help grinning at him. Mostly, though, I was impressed with Kelsey’s amazingly logical explanation. There were no tears or coughing fits until she said, “And now they’re going to arrest me.”

  “Either you have omitted something,” said Alex, “or they don’t have any cause to arrest you.”

  Of course, Alex didn’t know about Hollis’s fear that he was being poisoned . . . and since Kelsey hadn’t mentioned it, I wondered if she knew about it.

  Kelsey gazed at her hands and nervously intertwined her fingers. Sparkling flecks in her blue nail polish flashed as her fingers moved. “The cops asked if they can search the house. They said they can get a search warrant if I say no.”

  “Alex,” I said, “the police think that Hollis must have sprayed the bees and somehow inhaled too much of the pesticide.”

  “Then I don’t see the problem, Kelsey.”

  She leaned forward. “Then why is that Wolf guy hanging around?”

  A furrow formed between Alex’s eyes. “Wolf, huh? Maybe it’s because he has a thing for Sophie.” Alex winked at her.

  I shot him a nasty look. “That’s not true, Kelsey. Wolf is married, and he loves his wife very much. Honestly, Alex, you’re going to get me into trouble spreading nonsense like that.”

  His eyes narrowed, but not because of me. “You’re certain that you’ve told me everything, Kelsey? There isn’t some tiny little thing you might have omitted? I’m not quite sure why Wolf would be interested in your bee problem.”

  Kelsey gulped. “That’s what I thought. What if they’re trying to frame me?”

  “For Hollis’s murder?” asked Alex.

  Kelsey gulped and started hacking again.

  I handed her the paper bag.

  Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  When her respiration had returned to normal, Alex said, “Tell you what, come down to my office tomorrow morning. I’ll sign you on as a client. And if big, bad Wolf comes knocking at your door again, you tell him he has to talk to me. That’s all I want you to say. Nothing else. Just send him to me.”

  “Oh! You’re wonderful!” Kelsey launched herself at Alex, who nearly toppled over from her exuberant hug.

  “I’m glad to help.” He gently untangled himself from her arms.

  “Are you coming to Sophie’s dinner tonight?” asked Kelsey.

  “Dinner? I don’t believe I have been invited.”

  “Bernie needs to use up some food from the restaurant. I hope you’ll come,” I said.

  “Are you sure there’s enough?” Alex asked. “I don’t want to butt in.”

  “There’s always enough for you.”

  “Do we have hot water?” asked Kelsey. “I think I could use a nice, long bath.”

  “Only if you have a gas hot water heater,” said Alex.

  She winced. “Everywhere I turn, everything I do, there’s something Hollis would have known about. I have no idea what kind of water heater we have. Or if we even have one!”

  “It’s probably in your basement. But that doesn’t matter. Just turn on the hot water in
the sink. If it gets warm, you’re in luck.”

  Kelsey toddled over and embraced me. “Thank you, Sophie. You’re a lifesaver. I came in here a mess and now I have a lawyer, and I might even get a bath.”

  She left through the kitchen door, and I couldn’t help thinking how different she was from the time she had arrived.

  Alex was leaning against the kitchen island. He held out his hand to me. When I took it, he pulled me to him for a very romantic kiss. His arms still around me, he asked, “So why is Wolf suspicious of young Mrs. Haberman?”

  “Because Hollis came to me less than twenty-four hours before he died and asked how he could find out if someone was poisoning his food.”

  Chapter 13

  Dear Sophie,

  I love salami. There’s just nothing better. But my husband insists that it can spoil quickly and refuses to let me put it on a tray as an appetizer. Is he right?

  Hostess in Pig, Kentucky

  Dear Hostess,

  Salami should be sliced while cold, but served at room temperature to get the full benefit of the flavor.

  Sophie

  “Whoa! That was a whopper of a detail to conveniently forget. Makes me wonder what else she didn’t tell me.”

  “I don’t think she knows.”

  He drew his head back. “She doesn’t know that her husband suspected her of poisoning his food?”

  “He didn’t want anyone to know. Humphrey took samples to a friend of his. Wolf doesn’t sound particularly interested because the cause of death was definitely related to something Hollis inhaled. I think he said it probably triggered an underlying respiratory condition.”

  “Wolf’s no dummy. If Kelsey noticed Hollis being careful about what he ate, she might have changed her method of getting rid of him.” He was silent for a moment. “That certainly does change the picture. If she hires me, I’ll have to have a little talk with Wolf. She’s right about one thing. Wolf wouldn’t be sniffing around bees unless he thought something else was going on.”

  Voices outside drew our attention. Alex dropped his arms, and we walked over to the kitchen door. No one was there.

  “It’s coming from the backyard,” I said.

  We hurried to the sunroom, where we spotted Bernie and Mars unloading coolers from a truck parked in the alley. With the gate open, we could see the hound dog logo of The Laughing Hound on the truck. Daisy raced around the backyard, happy to be home.

  We walked out to help them. Bernie had brought stacks of cutting boards with grooves to catch juices from the meats. I carried them to a table next to the grill. Mars walked back to Bernie’s house to fetch his grill. Francie and Duke came over through the gate between our properties. Nina heard Mars rolling Bernie’s grill along the street and came back with him, loaded down with pitchers of some kind of cocktail.

  I hurried back inside to slice pineapples to throw on the grill. I cut off the tops and the bottoms, then attacked the sides and removed the little brown eyes that remained on the pineapples. I cut them into lovely slices and tossed them into a bowl so Bernie could add them to the grill. In my opinion, they didn’t need any seasoning because the heat would intensify the yummy sweetness. As I brought them out to the grill, Parker and Trula showed up carrying platters of cheeses and crackers, followed closely by Humphrey, carrying a big pot of macaroni and cheese. His not-so-charming mother accompanied him.

  “Humphrey!” I said. “You must have a gas stove. Hello, Mrs. Brown.”

  Her nostrils flared in disgust, and she muttered, “Good evening, Sophie.”

  “Actually, my house is entirely electric,” said Humphrey, “but for obvious reasons, the funeral home has a generator, so I cooked this there.”

  Nina overheard him. She whispered to me, “I am not eating anything cooked in a funeral home!”

  “Good idea,” I whispered back. “He probably baked it in the crematorium.”

  From the look on her face, she did not appreciate my sarcasm.

  Other neighbors began to arrive with their dogs and before we knew it, a party was in full swing with everyone pitching in.

  Trula joined me at the beverage table. “Thank you so much for hosting this, Sophie. It’s a brilliant way to use up the food that will spoil. Parker is a nut for cheese. He thinks cheese is a food group. We kept these in a cooler to be sure they’d be good, but I’m thrilled to get rid of them.”

  “It looks like quite an exotic assortment.”

  “It is.” She lowered her voice. “I’m glad we have an alternative to Natasha’s appetizer.”

  “I didn’t see her arrive. What did she bring?” I tried to sound upbeat but was almost afraid to find out what she had concocted.

  “Well, she glided in with Jay Charles on her arm!” She winked at me. “But you meant the food. She went to a lot of trouble to cut up a watermelon like a basket.”

  “Those are cute!”

  “Not when they’re filled with a watermelon, olive, and mushroom salad.”

  My eyes met hers. “No one will eat it. Ugh. At least she didn’t add anchovies. One of us will have to distract her while the other one spoons it into a little trash bag so she’ll think it was eaten.”

  “That’s probably best . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  At that very moment, I heard someone cry out in pain. From where we were standing, we had a perfect view of the little drama that unfolded when Lavinia Brown twisted her ankle and grabbed Jay Charles as she fell to the grass.

  “Lavinia!” he cried.

  She gazed up at him. “How silly of me. I fear I have broken my ankle.”

  Jay immediately knelt next to her and palpated her ankle.

  Natasha edged up to Trula and me and hissed, “Did you see that? The nerve of that woman. She did that on purpose. Broken ankle, my fanny! He came with me!”

  I felt sorry for Natasha. She was obnoxious and thought she was always right, but she continued struggling to achieve her dreams, no matter what. Most people would have given up by now, happy to have a successful local television show. And now she had set her sights on Jay, but she was being outsmarted by an older woman.

  Trula elbowed me. I nodded and hurried off to find a trash bag while Lavinia held Natasha’s attention.

  Keeping a close eye on Natasha, I scooped a generous amount of the questionable salad into a trash bag, tied a knot in the top, and hustled it off to the garbage can just inside the gate.

  When I returned, Lavinia was seated in a chair with her ankle up. Jay Charles attended her solicitously while Natasha stood over her like a vulture, saying, “It’s not swelling.”

  I returned to Trula, who was stifling giggles. “Can you believe the two of them are fighting over Jay?” she asked. “He’s quite a catch, of course, but who would be that obvious?”

  “I hope Natasha won’t pull a stunt now to draw Jay’s attention to her. At least I managed to consume some of her salad.”

  Trula’s gaze shifted. “I’m surprised that Kelsey has the nerve to be here. So tragic about Hollis. Parker and I are shaken to the core.”

  “I invited Kelsey.”

  “You did?”

  “She’s had a very tragic life. You wouldn’t believe what she has been through.”

  “Oh, I doubt that. She’s even more of a threat now that she’s a wealthy widow.”

  Why did Trula have to be such a snob? I couldn’t help myself. “I’m single.”

  Trula snorted. “You’re not chasing my husband, sweetheart. Kelsey had the nerve to call Parker and ask him to represent her. At least she’s dressed decently tonight. I guess I’m overly sensitive because I’ve been spending a lot of time at the library. It breaks my heart every time I see Cindy there. She does a good job of hiding her feelings and keeping a stiff upper lip, but when I think how that young woman came into her life and ousted her like last week’s leftovers, well, all I can say is that I hope some young Twinkie does the same to Kelsey someday so she’ll know how it feels.”

  When she put it t
hat way I understood why she disliked Kelsey so much. “I guess you spent a lot of time with Cindy?”

  “Parker, Hollis, and Gage were law partners for a long time. We celebrated together and partied together. Of course we knew one another well. Now it’s down to poor Parker. I don’t know how he’ll manage to handle their caseload all by himself.” Trula whispered, “He’s talking about bringing Alex on board!”

  I didn’t know if Alex would like that. He seemed to enjoy being his own boss and calling the shots. But maybe I was wrong about that. “Are you still volunteering at the library?”

  “On Wednesdays. Promise you won’t breathe a word of this, but I’m doing genealogical research into Parker’s family. It’s so hard to find a great gift for him. He’s related to the Revolutionary War spy John Dixon. I thought it would be a wonderful gift to have his family tree painted by a local artist.”

  The name John Dixon sounded familiar to me. “Parker will love that. Who was John Dixon? The only one I know is the ghost on Prince Street.”

  “That’s him! Can you imagine being related to someone who was so brave? Parker would fall apart on his first day as a spy. He definitely didn’t get the bravery gene from his ancestors. I haven’t found the genealogical link between them yet, but I still have some digging to do. I’ve gotten to know Jay a lot better, too. He’s often there with me searching for information on his house.” She paused and watched her husband talking with Kelsey. “Now, tell me why we’re calling these charcuterie boards. If I recall my French correctly, and I think I do, charcuterie means processed meats like salamis and pâtés.”

  “I’m no French expert, but I believe you’re right. We could call them storm boards if you like that better.”

  Trula laughed. “I have no objection to those fabulous steaks Bernie is grilling. And it looks like he has some lovely sausages and chicken on the grill, too. And I have to admit that I do like this sort of communal style of eating at long tables with boards of food bringing us all together. Such a fun change from formal dinners. It’s sort of a pop-up dinner, isn’t it? No one knows what will be served or who will be there.”