I nodded. “It should be, but they’re pretty busy lately. There’s a lot of crime in the city. They don’t have a lot of time to spare trying to figure out who tried to run me over.”
“So why are you asking about Destiny? Other than the fact that you’re the one who found her.”
“Well, actually, the lead detective thinks I was her drug dealer. I’m just trying to prove him wrong.”
Keon laughed, but as his smile faded, he gave me a long look and shook his head. “Guess that explains why that cop was in here yesterday asking all sorts of questions about you.”
I think my heart stopped beating. “Like what?”
“Like did I ever see you and Moose together? Did I ever see you hanging around over there?”
My stomach dropped and my breath caught. Winslow must seriously think I’d been supplying Destiny’s habit when I wasn’t secretly rendezvousing with her husband. “Anything else?”
Keon shrugged. “I don’t know. The usual, I guess. When did I see her last? Did I ever hear her and Moose fight? Shit like that. So did you get her drugs?”
“Of course not.” I glanced out the window toward the Chopper Shop, but all I could see was the fence. “Did you see Destiny yesterday morning? Do you know what time she got to work?”
Keon laughed. “Work? Destiny didn’t work. Do I know what time she opened the doors? Nope. Do I know who stole the van? Nope. Don’t know. Don’t care. All I know is it wasn’t me.” He went back to his game for a moment and then asked, “You sure guy who stole the van was trying to hit you?”
My spidey senses tingled. “No. Actually, I’m starting to think that someone was trying to hurt Moose or Destiny. Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt one of them?”
Keon’s long fingers stilled on the game pad and his dark eyes glittered. I had the feeling he was about to say something important, but I didn’t get the chance to find out. The back door flew open with a bang and his mother, Aquanettia, bustled inside, her arms loaded down with several bulging bags. A small ball of brown fur trotted in at her heels and circled her feet when she came to a stop. This must be the infamous Gilbert that Zora had mentioned.
“Keon, baby, I need you to go out back and get the rest of these T-shirts for me. And don’t make plans for the rest of the day. We need to start handing them out so people have them before the cleanup.”
Keon scuttled out the back door. Aquanettia put the bags on the counter, noticing me for the first time. “Oh! Rita!” she said. “I didn’t see you there.” She smoothed her hair and tugged down the hem of her shirt. Gilbert skittered across the hardwood floor toward me so he could sniff my feet. He must have ruled me out as a threat because he stood on his hind legs and pawed at me, begging for attention. I bent down to scratch behind his ears, which earned a smile from Aquanettia. Love me, love my dog.
“Are you here to do a little shopping?” she asked. “We got some nice clothes in on consignment the other day.”
I shook my head quickly. “I was just talking to Keon about the accident on Monday night.”
Aquanettia’s smile faded. “Oh, goodness. What a close call you had. And to think it was my van they used.” She shook her head and her expression sobered even more. “But what did you want to talk to Keon about? He wasn’t even here.”
“Are you sure? Someone told me they thought Keon was driving the van that night.”
Aquanettia’s eyes grew cold and hard. “That’s a lie. Who told you that?”
I couldn’t think of any reason to protect the dearly departed, so I told the truth. “It was Destiny.”
“Well,” Aquanettia said tersely, “she lied. But that was nothing new. Not to speak ill of the dead, but that woman wouldn’t have recognized the truth if it had waltzed right up to her and introduced itself. Keon wasn’t here that night.”
“But why would Destiny lie about him?”
“She would have lied about anything,” Aquanettia spat out. “That’s why Felix tried to warn all of you about her.” She opened one of the packages and shook out a T-shirt bearing a large blue magnolia tree on the front. “Her death was a tragedy, but at least we don’t have to worry about her trying to worm her way onto the Board of Directors. Can you believe the way she tried to undo all the work we’d already done?”
Her attitude made me uneasy. “It’s no secret the two of you weren’t friends,” I said. “But don’t you think that’s a bit cold? I mean yes, she was the competition—”
Aquanettia laughed harshly. “Oh, honey, that woman was never any actual competition. You can’t think anyone would have actually voted for her.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sure Moose would have, and Edgar seemed to support her.”
Aquanettia gave an expressive roll of her big brown eyes. “Edgar. What a piece of work he is. He certainly surprised me. All Destiny had to do was twitch her hips and he’d do whatever she wanted.”
“You think Edgar was interested in her? Romantically, I mean?”
“Are you kidding?” Aquanettia laughed and dropped into a chair behind the counter. “Honey, they were thicker than thieves.”
I thought about Destiny’s offer to let me have Moose the day she came to Zydeco, and shuddered. Had she been planning to dump Moose? Had he found out and slipped something into her coffee? “I can’t say I saw them together before the meeting Monday evening, but they seemed pretty friendly that night.”
Aquanettia glanced around to make sure we were alone and then leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m not one to talk bad about people, but ‘friendly’ doesn’t even come close to describing it. I wouldn’t say this to just anyone, but the truth is, that woman made poor Moose’s life a living hell.”
I wondered how much more forthcoming Aquanettia would be if she weren’t being “discreet.” “Do you think Moose suspected she was cheating on him?”
Aquanettia nodded. “Oh, he knew. They used to fight all the time about how often she went running off.” She tapped her head just above the ear. “I guess they thought we couldn’t hear them, but we heard just about every word. Moose told her just a few days before she died that he’d had enough. It wasn’t the first time he drew a line in the sand, but maybe he meant it this time.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully I was spared having to come up with something to say. The bell over the door tinkled as a couple of young women pushing strollers came inside, and I beat a hasty retreat. I still had no proof that Destiny’s death was anything but an accidental overdose, but the feeling in my gut was getting stronger all the time. Maybe the reason Moose didn’t mention the ultimatum he’d given Destiny was that he’d never actually issued one. Or maybe he had, but instead of warning her off drugs, he’d told her to end the relationship with Edgar, or else.
I liked Moose when he wasn’t angry, and I didn’t want him to be guilty of murder. But I was starting to think that maybe he wasn’t as surprised by Destiny’s extracurricular activities as he pretended to be.
• • •
I quickly picked up the supplies on my list and hurried back to Zydeco, wolfing down a bag of chips for lunch. Ox and the others had finished the Oakes petunia cake while I was gone. Since the cake would be presented on a layered cake stand, he’d piped a mound of icing into the center of each tier, clustered the flowers, and added leaves before finishing with a piped bead border. All that remained was to deliver it by noon on Friday. The golf course cake was also due Saturday night, and we still had a lot of work left to finish it. I’d let distractions get in my way all week. It was time to redeem myself.
I got to work on the water hazard for the golf course cake, using Isomalt. Made from beet sugar, Isomalt has been around since the 1960s, and many professionals prefer using it to sugar for showpiece work since it’s more resistant to crystallization, clouding, and the ravages of humidity. It’s great for simulating water.
If it’s prepared and stored right, it’s also relatively easy to work with, but it’s easy to mess up
if you’re not on top of the process. Determined to make up for having been gone most of the day, I carefully measured the Isomalt into a stainless steel pan and added a few ounces of distilled water. I put the pan on a burner in the kitchen and watched the flame to make sure it stayed centered on the bottom of the pot. When the mixture began to heat, I wiped down the sides of the pan with a nylon bristle brush, avoiding the natural bristles I usually prefer since those can turn the Isomalt an unsightly yellow color.
The mixture had just topped the 320-degree mark on my candy thermometer, a signal for me to watch closely so I could remove the pan from heat at 333 degrees and put it in water to stop the cooking process. And that’s exactly what I would have done if Pearl Lee hadn’t sashayed into the design room at that precise moment. And if she hadn’t been beaming from ear to ear.
I forgot all about that hot pan full of Isomalt when I saw her. “Where in the hell have you been?”
Pearl Lee perched on one of the stools near my workstation. “Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport. Scotty and I had a great time together.”
“Terrific. Except you were supposed to be here, not off having a tryst.”
“It was no such thing. I’ll have you know that Scotty was a perfect gentleman. I tried to convince him to cut loose a little, but he wasn’t in the mood, I guess.”
“The man’s in mourning,” I reminded her. “His daughter just died. He might need a little more time before he’s ready for a midafternoon roll in the hay.”
Pearl Lee looked scandalized. “Why, Rita Renier, how you talk! It wasn’t anything like that. The poor man just needed a shoulder to cry on.”
“Lucero,” I said when she paused to take a breath.
“What?”
“My name. It’s Lucero, not Renier.”
“Oh. Well, how very odd. But the point is, Scotty needed some breathing room. He wanted to get away from his son-in-law and the police and all the neighbors who think they know everything, and that old biddy who keeps hanging around his house all the time. So we ran off for a few hours. But it was all perfectly innocent.”
“I sure hope you’re telling the truth,” I said. “But you know Miss Frankie will pitch a royal fit when she finds out.”
Pearl Lee tilted her head. “Well now, baby, I don’t see why Frances Mae has to find out anything about it. Can’t you just tell her that I was here all afternoon just the way she said?”
“You want me to lie for you?”
“Don’t think of it as a lie. Think of it as an investment in the future.”
I laughed. “How would that be an investment?”
“Oh, honey, everybody needs a favor now and then. You do this one for me. I’ll owe you one down the road.”
“I don’t think so,” I said with another laugh. “I’m not doing anything that’ll get me on Miss Frankie’s bad side.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Pearl Lee bargained.
I started to shake my head when the smell of burnt sugar caught my attention and I remembered the Isomalt. I swore under my breath and snatched the pan from the burner, but I was too late. The entire batch was ruined.
Apparently sensing that I was in no mood to negotiate, Pearl Lee hopped off the stool and headed back to the front of the house. I would have breathed a sigh of relief except she paused just before she walked through the door and waved one hand over her head. “Thanks, baby,” she sang out. “I owe you one.”
Sixteen
After Pearl Lee left, I threw myself into my work with a vengeance. Putting everything else out of my mind, I spent the next few hours molding palm trees from gum paste, and modeling a small set of golf clubs, four tires, and a few other details for the golf cart before turning my attention to making sand traps from crushed graham crackers. I sent Edie home around seven with strict instructions to eat well and get a good night’s sleep. Around eleven, the rest of us packed it in after coming up with a game plan for finishing the cake the next day.
Just thinking about another day with Pearl Lee underfoot kicked up a craving for one of Gabriel’s margaritas. Or two. He’s a master at the craft. As I closed up at Zydeco, I briefly considered heading over to the Dizzy Duke. But I had to be up early and I’d need my wits about me. There was no way I could handle Pearl Lee and a foggy head at the same time. Besides, after the way Gabriel had covered for Scotty and Pearl Lee this afternoon, I wasn’t in the mood to see him again so soon.
Dragging with exhaustion, I locked up and let myself out through the loading dock door. As I started toward my Mercedes, I spotted Sparkle in the parking lot, standing between her car and mine. Actually, I spotted the gleam of light on the silver studs in her dog collar choker first. Her pitch-black hair and goth clothing blended into the shadows. She tossed a bag into the trunk of her Honda Civic and watched me closely as I walked toward her.
Her dark eyes roamed over the yellowing bruises on my face and the fading scratches on my arms. “You look awful. Are you sure you’re okay?”
We’d been working together for hours, but she’d waited until now to ask. From anyone else, the delay might seem odd, but Sparkle likes to pretend that she’s bored with the world and unconcerned about everyone in it. The fact that she had asked at all said a lot. She liked me! She really liked me! The realization touched me so deeply, I almost forgot how tired I was.
I grinned and nodded. “I’m fine. Feeling a little better every day.”
“Do they know who was driving the van yet?”
“Not that they’re telling me, but I’m sure they’re working on it.” Okay, I was being generous. I wasn’t sure of anything, especially where Detective Winslow was concerned.
“Well, good.” Sparkle fell silent for a moment, but made no move to leave.
Which made me think she had something else on her mind. I leaned against the trunk of the Mercedes and waited for her to let me know what it was.
“Estelle says you’re planning a baby shower for Edie,” she said after a few minutes.
Sparkle cared about the baby shower? That was a surprise. Maybe she was letting down her guard a little. “Actually, Miss Frankie is doing all the work,” I said after glancing around to make sure Estelle wasn’t hanging out in the shadows. Call me chicken but I didn’t want Estelle to know that I’d passed off the job. “She’s much better at planning parties than I am.”
Sparkle nodded slowly, but a frown played across her painted black lips. “Has Edie talked to you about the baby?”
Surprise number two. I was getting more curious about where Sparkle was going with her questions by the minute. “A little, but she’s not saying much.”
“That’s the problem!” Sparkle cried, throwing up her hands in despair. I’d never seen her so animated before, and I wasn’t sure how to react. “She’s not talking to any of us, and some people are getting worried about her. They’re starting to wonder if she’s doing the right thing.”
I took a cautious approach. “I’m not sure what you mean. Who wonders if Edie’s doing the right thing about what?”
“The baby, of course.” Sparkle seemed almost embarrassed to be talking about it, but she was obviously upset or she wouldn’t have said anything at all. I had the feeling she wasn’t just voicing the concerns of her coworkers either, but I played along. “You mean they wonder if she’s doing the right thing to keep the baby?”
Sparkle shook her head. “That’s not it. Edie wants the baby and I think she’ll be a good mom.” She sighed and leaned against the car, mirroring my posture. “But don’t you think she ought to at least let the baby’s dad be part of its life?”
She was wading into dangerous water now. Edie had already cut ties with her family because of their opinions. I was certain she wouldn’t hesitate to do the same with Sparkle—or any of us, for that matter.
“I don’t think it matters what you or I think,” I said. “That’s Edie’s choice.”
Sparkle rolled her eyes. “I know. I know. I’m just thinking about the bab
y. What kind of life is it going to have? Don’t you think it deserves to know where it came from?”
I so didn’t want to get in the middle of this, but I couldn’t ignore the question. “I guess, if there’s a great guy out there who would be a loving dad and who wants to know his kid. But what if he’s not such a great guy? What if he doesn’t care about the baby?” Or what if Edie doesn’t even know who he is? “We don’t know Edie’s situation,” I reminded Sparkle. “So speculating about what we think she should do is kind of pointless, don’t you think?”
Sparkle did a maybe/maybe-not thing with her head and shoulders. “We’d know her situation if she wasn’t being so secretive. She’s only thinking about herself. She’s not thinking about the baby at all. It’s not easy growing up without a father. You know that.”
“I do,” I agreed. “But I was lucky. I lost my dad when I was twelve, but my Uncle Nestor was there to step in.” I couldn’t deny that Sparkle had a point, though. Even the most loving uncle hadn’t been able to fill the void left by my father’s death.
I wondered about Sparkle’s past. I didn’t know a lot about it except that she’d grown up in a commune and her parents were hippies. “Where is this concern for the baby coming from?” I asked. “I know you had an unusual childhood in some respects, but you grew up with both parents, didn’t you?”
Sparkle looked down at her feet. “Well . . . sort of. I know that Liberty is my mom. She says she is anyway, and I’m pretty sure she’s telling the truth. But I don’t know where Bob fits into the picture. He’s been hanging around for so long, I’ve just started calling him Dad. It’s easier.”
“Oh,” I said brilliantly. I didn’t know what else to say.
Sparkle lifted her head and laughed, and for a moment the smile on her face transformed her. “Yeah,” she said. “I get that a lot. People really don’t know how to react when they find out.”
“So Bob isn’t your dad?”
“He might be. He might not be. Liberty doesn’t even know. She’s all about doing what feels right in the moment but she’s not big on keeping track of what she did and when she did it. That includes who she slept with. I have no idea who my real dad is or even if my brother River and I have the same one. Details like that just aren’t important in my mother’s world.” A note of bitterness crept into her voice, and my heart went out to her. I’d had a rough time after my parents died, but I’d always been completely sure that they loved me. From the way Sparkle was talking, I didn’t think she’d had the same assurance. I wondered how she would feel if she ever learned the truth about Edie’s situation, and made a silent vow not to be the one who told her.
The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery) Page 14