Death by Pumpkin Spice

by Alex Erickson

  Buchannan eyed me up and down and a grin inverted his scowl. “I’m not sure the new outfit does what you were hoping for.”

  “Ha, ha,” I deadpanned, but blushed anyway. I wish I could have forgotten about the horrible outfit Margaret had left for me, but it was kind of hard considering I was wearing it. “Just a minute,” I said. The next came out with some difficulty. “You can listen in if you want.”

  “It’s okay, John,” Margaret said, resting a hand on his wrist. “If it will help, I’ll answer anything. This whole mess has put a damper on my party, as well as my husband’s memory. I want to put it all behind me as fast as I can.”

  John? I thought, watching as his eyes softened and his entire posture relaxed when he turned his attention back to her. I don’t know what it was, but it seemed like older women always erased some of his harsher edges.

  Buchannan glanced at me and then sighed. “All right,” he said. “But if you go too far, I’m going to step in.”

  “Works for me.”

  He snorted and crossed his arms.

  I did my best to ignore him as I turned to Margaret. “First of all, thank you for letting me use your facilities. I feel much better.” Despite my still-damp hair and ugly clothing.

  “It was no problem, dear.”

  I gave Buchannan a sideways glance. “You told me earlier that you and your husband . . .” I trailed off, uncertain I wanted to air her dirty laundry in front of my arch nemesis, but it couldn’t be helped. I told him he could stay. “That you slept around.”

  She nodded, not a bit perturbed. “We did. It was a mutual agreement, let me assure you.” She smiled at Buchannan. “Many young men have crossed my bed.” And then she winked at him, causing his face to turn a deep crimson.

  “How many of these people are here tonight?” I asked, pressing on. I wasn’t convinced their sex life was the reason Jessica Fairweather was murdered, but right then, it was really all I had to go on. Maybe a name would jump out at me, or somehow tell me why Howard’s photograph had pinged something in my mind.

  “Quite a few, actually.” Margaret glanced into the ballroom, as if looking for them.

  “Would you mind writing the names down?” I asked.

  Buchannan’s embarrassment had passed. Instead, he looked interested in the conversation. “Does Officer Dalton know about this?”

  Both Margaret and I nodded, though she was the one to answer. “It is common knowledge, really. Most everyone here has spent time with a few people in the room.” She shrugged dismissively. “It’s natural to seek out the influential for companionship, even if it is for only a few hours.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but hey, whatever floated their boats, right? “The list would really help,” I said. “Maybe someone on it could tell us more about Jessica, and whether or not she was involved with Howard in any way.”

  Margaret gave me a smile that was just this side of condescending. “I’m sure it will be a waste of time, dear. None of the men I’ve been with would know anything about that, let alone hurt the poor girl.”

  “But the woman your husband was with might have a reason,” I said. “And perhaps someone saw something one late night that would lead to catching the killer. You know, like boats passing in the night?”

  She rolled her eyes. “If you say so,” she said. “But I find it highly unlikely. And as I said before, I don’t know all of their names, just the ones who have come asking for handouts since his death.”

  “Any would help.”

  She sighed, clearly put out. “Let me get it for you. I’ll be right back.” She turned and strode down the hall.

  “You should let me handle this,” Buchannan said as soon as she was gone. “You shouldn’t be the one asking these questions.”

  “Paul sent me.” It was a lie, sure, but he had asked me to help earlier, so I was just extending my assistance. “I’ll take him the list as soon as I have it.” And had a chance to peruse it for a name I might recognize.

  Buchannan looked skeptical but didn’t press. He appeared contemplative. I think it was the first time I ever did or said anything he didn’t immediately dislike. If he kept it up, he might actually start to like me a little.

  Margaret returned a few minutes later, a piece of paper in hand. She handed it to me. “As I said before, I don’t know how this will help. Everyone on here is here tonight. I left off anyone who isn’t present, or with us anymore.” She looked past me, as if remembering a long-lost love, before sighing. “I should mingle.” She started away.

  “Mrs. Yarborough, wait,” I said. She turned to face me slowly, as if she’d considered pretending not to have heard and walking away. “I have a few more questions.”

  “I really am busy, dear.”

  Buchannan’s eyes narrowed at that, as if he found the reaction suspect. I took it more like she was annoyed at being asked so many questions. It was a common reaction most people had when I was around. Go figure.

  “It will only take a sec.”

  Margaret’s sigh was more of a huff this time. “Fine,” she said, waving a dismissive hand at me. “Ask your questions.”

  My feathers ruffled a bit at that. Let it go, Krissy. Some people were just like that. And I was asking her some pretty personal questions.

  “You said earlier that you changed your costume because you didn’t want to be seen wearing the same thing as the victim.”

  Margaret nodded. “That’s right.”

  “It’s totally understandable. I know I wouldn’t have wanted to be seen in the same outfit.”

  She frowned. “Is there a point to this?”

  “I was just wondering; why did you have a spare costume on hand?”

  She seemed surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I only had the one outfit,” I said, lamenting the condition of the Holmes costume. I might have felt uncomfortable in it before, but it had been far better than what I was wearing now. “Yet, you had a second on hand. Why?”

  Margaret didn’t answer right away. She eyed me, as if determining whether or not I was accusing her of something. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was. I was curious, and maybe just a little suspicious. Chances were good I was reading too much into it.

  “It was a spare,” she said after a moment. “Howard had asked me to wear it to this year’s event. He was going to wear something to go with it. It was decided on last year and I bought the dress then, certain I was going to wear it.” She looked down at her Audrey Hepburn dress. “When Howard passed, I no longer wished to wear it. Then I saw the Marilyn Monroe outfit and decided to make the switch. I kept the other outfit because it was far too late to take it back, and it could serve as a spare in case something like this happened.”

  “A murder?”

  “No, dear,” she said with a wry smile. “Someone else wearing the same thing. It happens more than I would like, so I thought it would be a perfect backup. I only wish that officer would give me back my jewelry so I could complete the outfit.”

  I considered asking her about the whereabouts of the box the jewelry had been in, but decided that would give my snooping away. It wasn’t important, anyway. She could have put it somewhere else, or perhaps Reggie had taken it and dropped it in the trash at some point. Just because I believed most of this story, didn’t mean he’d been entirely honest with us.

  Besides, after hearing her reason for having two costumes, I felt bad. It had to be hard, even now, to wear the Hepburn dress. It had to remind her of her husband, as did everything else in the house. Was it any wonder she’d turned the photograph facedown? It probably hurt too much to look at it.

  “If there isn’t anything else . . . ?” She motioned toward the ballroom, eyebrows raised in question.

  “That will be all,” Buchannan answered for me. “Thank you for your time and cooperation.”

  “It was no trouble.” She glanced at me and then gave Buchannan a curt nod, before sashaying into the ballroom.

&
nbsp; “What was that all about?” he asked when she was gone.

  “I’m trying to get all of the facts,” I said. “Officer Dalton asked for my help and I’m giving it.”

  “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want you grilling the guests. What does her dress have to do with anything?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” At least now I understood her reasoning better.

  Buchannan chewed on his lower lip and then held out his hand. “Let me see that.”

  I considered hurrying away without giving him the list but decided that while he was being civil with me, I should do the same. I handed it to him and waited while he read through the names.

  “Does any of it mean anything to you?”

  His eyes flickered up toward me, before going back to the list. “There are a lot of names here.”

  “Any of them familiar?” I had yet to peek at the list and was curious.

  “Some.” He frowned, as if coming across a name he didn’t suspect. Then he surprised me by handing the list back to me. “Take it to Officer Dalton. Get his take on it.”

  I nearly fainted. Was Buchannan actually accepting my help? I glanced upward to make sure the sky wasn’t about to come crashing down on my head before taking the list.

  I walked away, almost certain Buchannan’s usual nature would kick in and he’d yell at me to get back there and hand over the evidence. Yet I made it all the way to the ballroom without him calling out to me. When I glanced back, he was gone, presumably to continue his own investigation.

  Maybe he’s not so bad, after all. It was a thought I never imagined having.

  I looked down at the paper in my hand. The list was indeed extensive, so much so, it was mind-boggling. I couldn’t imagine sleeping with this many people, not in an entire lifetime. I didn’t recognize most of the names, thankfully. There were a few that made my skin crawl, like Raymond Lawyer, and some that didn’t surprise me at all. Nothing immediately jumped out at me, but I never truly thought it would. I didn’t see Jessica Fairweather’s name on the list, but I expected that, since Margaret already told me she didn’t know if the girl had been with her husband or not.

  Once through the list, I carried it over to Paul, who was standing only a few yards away, talking with Shannon, who didn’t appear to be happy. Her arms were crossed as she listened to him, not meeting his eye. She looked hurt, perhaps even sad. I actually felt bad, as if it was somehow my fault, though I knew it probably had more to do with the investigation than anything.

  I gave them a moment before approaching. “Paul,” I said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have something for you.”

  He glanced at me before turning back to Shannon, as if to say something. She waved him off, and said, “Go. Do what you have to do.”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “I promise.” He turned to me with some reluctance and led me a few paces away. “What do you have?”

  I handed him the list. “They’re names of people Margaret Yarborough, uh, slept with.” My ears felt suddenly hot.

  He eyed the page. “There are women’s names here.”

  “Those are Howard’s.” Pause. “Before he died.” As if he wouldn’t know that.

  Paul read the list a couple of times before glancing up at me. “Do you think anyone here could have had anything to do with the murder?” He sounded as skeptical as I felt about the possibility.

  “I don’t know, but figured it would be a good place to start. We’re getting nowhere otherwise.”

  “No, I’m not,” he muttered, before sighing. “I should talk to Mrs. Yarborough.” He glanced around the room, spotting her almost immediately. “Thank you,” he told me.

  “No problem.” He started to walk away, but I stopped him as another thought hit me. “Ask her about what Reggie said about hearing people arguing in her bedroom, if you haven’t already. If it was her, maybe she can shed some light on what it was about. If not . . .” I left the rest for him to fill in.

  Paul nodded absently and then went off to talk to Margaret. I watched him go before turning, only to find Shannon a few paces away, looking at me.

  “I don’t hold it against you,” she said.

  “Hold what?” I asked, honestly confused.

  “This.” She gestured around the room. “That.” She motioned toward Paul.

  “Shannon, I . . .”

  “It’s okay.” She smiled at me and then walked away.

  What in the world could that have been about? I watched her vanish into the crowd, completely at a loss. If she thought there was still something between me and Paul, she was mistaken. Sure, some of the old flame was still there, but not enough that either of us would act on it. I’d moved on. So you think.

  I stood alone in the middle of the ballroom and realized that my part in the investigation was done. The police could handle the rest. Paul had the list. Buchannan had heard what Margaret Yarborough had to say. I had no other leads and didn’t think I was going to come across any more. Even the rain sounded as if it had started to let up. We might actually get to leave before the night was out.

  My eyes scanned the crowd until I found Will. A smile spread across my face. We were finally going to get to spend some real time together now that I wasn’t chasing after a murderer.

  With one last glance at Paul, and a slight pang of jealousy that he was still on the case, I headed for Will, hoping I could still salvage something positive from the night.

  20

  “Someone said we might be able to leave soon. Do you know anything about that, Karen?” Diana twirled her finger in her hair.

  “I haven’t heard,” I said through gritted teeth. “And it’s Krissy.”

  Diana gave me a simpering smile.

  I was trying to like Darrin’s and Carl’s wives, I really was, but it was like making friends with a ravenous tiger. Actually, I think I’d be better off with the tiger. At least it would want to eat me. Diana and Kim refused to learn my name, no matter how many times I told them.

  “This party is a total bust,” Kim said, smoothing down the front of her extravagant gown. She looked as if she were ready for a high school prom, though I knew the youth was painted on. When you got close to her, the caked-on makeup became evident.

  When I’d come over to talk to Will, I hadn’t anticipated getting dragged into a conversation with the wives of his friends. Will, Darrin, and Carl had all gone off together, leaving me stuck with women who clearly had nothing in common with me. I caught a couple of grins from the men as they slunk off to hide.

  Jerks.

  Diana sighed for about the twentieth time since I’d gotten there. “You’ve been running around with that policeman, right, Carrie? Can’t you make him let us go? Everyone knows we could have had nothing to do with the killing.”

  “Sorry,” I said, not bothering to correct her this time. “Even if the case was solved, we’d be stuck here until the driveway is clear.”

  Diana huffed and Kim rolled her eyes. “This is the last time I ever come to one of these,” the latter said.

  “Totally,” Diana agreed.

  I ground my teeth together and tried not to blow up at them. No wonder Darrin and Carl had beat a hasty retreat the moment I was introduced. If I had to listen to these two women complain all night, I’d go insane. Now I knew what Will had meant when he’d talked about his friend’s wives. I guess sometimes looks aren’t the only thing that matters in a person; personality goes a long way.

  “So, what do you do for a living?” I asked the women, hoping to have some sort of decent conversation where I wouldn’t want to throttle them.

  Diana looked at me as if I’d just asked her what color her undergarments were. Kim looked confused.

  “Never mind,” I muttered, knowing they probably spent their days lounging by the pool, going to parties, and acting as if they were better than everyone else.

  “I hear you work at a coffee shop,” Kim said, appalled. “You don’t actually touch
the food, do you?”

  “I own the place,” I said. “And, yes, I touch the food.” I wiggled my fingers as if I personally stuck my thumb in every cup of coffee.

  Diana’s nose crinkled. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Can we please go now?” Kim asked. I think she was more concerned about getting away from me than leaving the party.

  I tuned them out and scanned the crowd for an escape. There had to be something better to do. The two women didn’t want me there, and I surely didn’t want to stand around, listening to them complain and put me down. Vicki and Mason were talking with Lance and Jules. That was more my crowd; not these two rich bimbos who cared about nothing other than themselves.

  I mentally chided myself for thinking of Diana and Kim so poorly, but it was hard not to. I might have to eventually spend more time with them if Will and I became serious. There would be dinner parties, triple dates. Maybe they aren’t so bad. Could I really judge them based on one little conversation?

  Glancing over, I decided, yeah, I could. Diana was twirling her hair around her index finger, looking as bored as could be. Kim kept huffing and sighing as if she thought someone would eventually take notice and call in a helicopter to airlift her out of here.

  “I’ll talk to you two later,” I said. “I see some friends I’d like to say hi to.”

  Diana looked surprised when I spoke, as if she’d forgotten I was there. “Oh. Okay. Have fun, Missy.”

  She was closer this time. Maybe someday she’d get it.

  “Bye.” Kim gave me a finger wave before looking away.

  I started for where my friends were chatting when I saw Terry Blandino striding purposefully across the room. I altered my course, thinking that this had to be more interesting than anything else going on at the moment. I followed him across the room, until I saw exactly where he was heading.

  The man in the fedora, Philip, was glowering at Terry as he approached. He was alone, standing apart from the rest of the guests, almost as if he’d been ostracized, and it looked as if he wanted to keep it that way. The last time I saw him and Terry together, they’d been fighting, and this looked like another outburst in the making.