“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” I said when I found my voice again. “I guess I need to pay better attention.”
Sparkle’s smile faded and her familiar bored expression took its place. “I don’t talk about him much,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Interesting response. Apparently, River was a touchy subject as well. But she’d brought him up, so I went with it. “How long is a while?”
“This time? Five years. He got fed up with the whole commune thing and took off when he was seventeen. I was only twelve and I missed him like crazy. He came back once, right before I left, and he wrote to me a couple of years later. Bob forwarded the letter, so River and I kept up by mail for a while. Later we started e-mailing. I hear from him about twice a year.”
“Sounds like you still miss him.”
Sparkle shrugged. “I deal with it.” Which, I was learning, meant “yes” in Sparkle-speak. “Look, I’m okay with my life so don’t start feeling all sorry for me or anything. I just think Edie’s kid deserves better, that’s all. Would you help me talk sense into her?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I wouldn’t try telling Edie what to do in this situation if my life depended on it. She’s doing the best she can in a difficult situation. I think the best thing we can do is to just be supportive.”
Sparkle had looked down at her boots again, but now her head whipped up and she stared at me with eyes wide as quarters. “You know who it is, don’t you?”
Crap! What had I done to give her that idea? I shook my head quickly. “I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t lie. You know. I can tell.”
What was she? Psychic? “I don’t know who the baby’s father is,” I said firmly. “So you can stop asking. I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.” And that was the truth.
“But you know something.”
I made a face at her and pulled out my keys. “What I know is that we both have a long day tomorrow. We should both go home.”
“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it’s not going to work.” Sparkle got between me and the car door. “You know something about the baby. What is it?”
“Forget it,” I said. “If that’s all you want, let’s call it a night. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”
Sparkle stared at me, like she thought that if she glowered long and hard enough, I might cave. But I knew she didn’t really want me to. Aunt Yolanda had taught me that a person who shares someone else’s secrets with you can’t be trusted with your own. If I blabbed to Sparkle now, she would never trust me again.
I stared back, holding her gaze with mine and refusing to blink. I’d played this game with my cousins a lot when we were younger and I’d gotten good at it. Only an earthworm down my back could make me blink first.
It took a while, but Sparkle finally broke. She sighed and reluctantly moved out of my way. “I’ll find out sooner or later,” she warned.
I tried not to gloat. After all, Aunt Yolanda had also taught me to be a gracious winner. So I flashed a smile as I slid behind the wheel. “I think it’s great that you’re concerned about the baby, but try not to worry. Edie’s a responsible adult. She’ll do the right thing.”
“I hope so,” Sparkle said. “For the baby’s sake.” I expected her to walk away now that we’d reached an impasse, but to my surprise, she wasn’t finished with me. “Is everything okay with you? You seem kind of distracted.”
“I guess I am,” I said. “There’s a vice cop who thinks I was supplying Destiny with drugs, and that’s freaking me out a little.”
Sparkle’s mouth fell open. “No joke?”
“I’m afraid not. And something about Destiny’s death feels off to me. I’m about seventy-five percent convinced she had help with the overdose that killed her.”
“You think she was murdered?”
“Maybe. I can’t prove it, though. And I’m not sure the police are even looking into it.” Winslow seemed much more interesting in taking me down.
“So are you going to do the same thing with that as you’re doing with the baby? Just sit back and hope for the best?”
The question stung. I put my key into the ignition and scowled. “I can’t dictate to Edie what she should do with her life, and I can’t prove Destiny was murdered just because I want to.”
“But you didn’t give her drugs,” Sparkle said, as if that should matter to Detective Winslow. “And you’re usually right about these kinds of things. You can’t let somebody ruin Zydeco’s reputation—and yours—just because he’s a cop.”
I appreciated her faith in me but it didn’t change anything. “It’s not that easy.”
“Let’s say she was murdered. Who do you think did it?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “You must have some idea.”
I was relieved to leave the subject of Edie and the baby behind and touched by her faith in my innocence. Clearly, she needed to talk, so I motioned for her to get into the car and turned on the air conditioner so we’d be comfortable. “It could have been Edgar Zappa,” I said. “I think he and Destiny were having an affair even though he claims they were just friends. Plus, he knew that Destiny was using drugs again. He says he was trying to help her, but I don’t know. I think he’s hiding something. How well do you know him?”
“Not well,” Sparkle said. “I’ve used EZ Shipping to send packages home, but that’s about it. Do you really think he and Destiny were sleeping together?”
“It’s possible,” I said. “Why? Don’t you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see it. He’s not really her type.”
“Aquanettia seems to think that every man was her type. According to her, the two of them spent an awful lot of time together.”
“Edgar’s too quiet,” Sparkle said. “Destiny would have tossed him like yesterday’s trash after their first date unless he had something she wanted.”
That was an intriguing thought. “Like what?”
“Money maybe? Or drugs?”
I tried to imagine tall, blond Edgar as a drug dealer. The image didn’t fit, but I didn’t dismiss the idea. “Maybe he found out she was using him,” I said.
“And he snuck over to the Chopper Shop early one morning to kill her?”
“Maybe. Or maybe they met there for some reason and then he found out. Both Moose and Scotty were out late the night before. Destiny told them to stay home and sleep in. Maybe she arranged to meet Edgar when they could be alone. But even if that were the case, I’d never be able to prove it.”
Sparkle chewed on one stubby black-polished nail. “If he was there, somebody could have seen him. What time are we talking about?”
“I found her around nine in the morning,” I said. “If I could find someone who was in the area, and who saw Edgar, or even Moose or Scotty at the Chopper Shop, Detective Winslow would have to admit that something is fishy. Every one of them has denied being there.”
“Then maybe you should find out if anyone saw one of them or somebody else at the Chopper Shop yesterday morning. Because if you’re right and somebody did kill her, that means a murderer is walking around this neighborhood free and clear.”
“And if I’m wrong?”
Sparkle shrugged. “Then you’re wrong and you can let it go. But even if you’re wrong about Destiny, somebody was driving the van that almost hit you.”
She was right about that. “Edgar said that Moose was ready to divorce Destiny if she relapsed. According to Edgar, Destiny had spent so much money on drugs the Chopper Shop was in real trouble. Moose hasn’t come right out and said that she put the shop in jeopardy, but he did admit that he let her do whatever she wanted for a long time. And I’ve seen his temper in action. It’s not hard to imagine him snapping but he was standing beside me when the van came around the corner. So unless Destiny’s murder was premeditated and Moose had an accomplice, I don’t think he did it.”
Sparkle thought
that over and said, “Unless he saw an opportunity after the van almost ran you down and decided to kill her then.”
I shook my head. “I might have believed that at first, but the longer this goes on, the less I think the van’s driver was after me. Either he was trying to hit Destiny and went for me by mistake, or he was after Moose. If Moose did it and used an accomplice, who was it? Scotty? Destiny was a real piece of work, but do you really think her own father would be part of a plot to kill her?”
“Stranger things have happened. I know for a fact that Scotty and Destiny weren’t getting along. Maybe he finally got fed up with her.”
I shot a look across the seat at her. “How do you know they weren’t getting along, and why are you just telling me about it now?”
Sparkle looked sheepish. “I forgot. It didn’t seem like anything at the time, but I heard them arguing a few days before she died.”
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
Sparkle shook her head. “Not really. They were in a booth at the Lotus Blossom. I was waiting for a take-out order. I didn’t hear the whole conversation, but I know it had something to do with Aquanettia and the Magnolia Square Business Alliance. Destiny was planning to do something Scotty didn’t agree with. He told her to step back and let it go but she just laughed and said she’d only be giving that bitch what she deserved.”
“How did Scotty react to that?”
“That’s what made me think about it,” Sparkle said. “He got really quiet, but not in a good way. In the creepy way, you know? And he told her to back off or she’d be sorry.”
My stomach turned over a couple of times as I considered the implications of that threat. But what could have made a father say something like that to his only daughter? Had I been wrong about Scotty? Had he and Moose planned Destiny’s murder together? They each had motive. They both had the means, and together they had the opportunity to set it up.
But even if my suspicions about one of the men in Destiny’s life were correct, it still wasn’t enough. I had to find proof that someone else had killed Destiny in the first place or I might never get the target off my own back.
Seventeen
I didn’t get a chance to think about drug dealers or possible murder plots on Friday. We were up to our necks in work, delivering the petunia cake for the Oakes baptism and trying to finish the golf course case. I put Pearl Lee to work double-checking client addresses on our mailing list, which she actually did when she wasn’t filing her nails or learning to play Solitaire online. The fact that she’d done any work at all may have lulled me into a false sense of security.
I was at work bright and early Saturday morning, ready to do my bit for the neighborhood cleanup committee. And if I happened to find myself working alongside a neighbor—a neighbor who might have seen someone hanging around the Chopper Shop on Wednesday morning, for example—well, so be it. I’m not the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Aquanettia was already on-site when I pulled into the parking lot, barking orders to Isaiah and Keon, who were busy moving supplies into several stacks around the lot’s perimeter. Each of her sons was wearing a stark white T-shirt with a blue magnolia tree on the chest, the shirts Aquanettia had been unpacking when I stopped in at Second Chances.
Isaiah directed me to park in the far corner of the lot while Aquanettia shouted at Keon. “No, no, no! Don’t put those there. I told you, we need each team to have the same supplies exactly! If you don’t watch what you’re doing, we’ll end up with nothing but confusion.”
Keon shot his mother an exasperated look and bent to pick up the box he’d just put down. Even though the sun had only been up a few minutes, sweat already glistened on his face and created a dark stain on his shirt. “It’s no big deal, Ma. They’re gonna be picking up garbage, not curing cancer.”
Aquanettia sighed heavily at her son, but she smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re here, Rita. We could use another hand.”
I really wanted to slip inside for a cup of coffee, but I didn’t want to seem uncooperative so I stirred up some community spirit and said, “Put me to work. I’m all yours.”
“You’re feeling strong enough? I don’t want to make things worse if you’re still feeling poorly.”
“I’m good to go,” I assured her. “Where do you want me?”
“I’m trying to get the supplies divided evenly into eight different groups. We’ll split up into teams, each team taking a section of the neighborhood that I’ve marked on this map.” She held out a clipboard and gave me a glimpse of a hand-drawn grid representing the Magnolia Square Business Alliance.
“Each group should have water, a selection of tools, garbage bags—” She broke off suddenly, scowling at my chest. “Where is your T-shirt? You’re supposed to be wearing your T-shirt. Keon spent all day yesterday delivering those shirts and detailed instructions to every member of the alliance. You’re supposed to be wearing yours for the cleanup today.”
News to me. But that’s why I wasn’t running for Queen of the World. Sometimes important details like that escape me.
“I haven’t seen mine,” I said. “Keon must have brought it by while I was out. Maybe I should go find it.” And I’d begin my search at the coffeepot.
Aquanettia swiped a trickle of sweat from her forehead and waved me off. “Go. I don’t know how we can expect to present a united front to the neighborhood if we can’t even get that one little thing right.”
I didn’t get far before someone called my name. I turned back reluctantly and found Zora coming down the driveway carrying a couple of oversized tote bags. Her Magnolia Square T-shirt was stretched tight, revealing every bounce and jiggle as she walked. “I hope I’m not late,” she said as she climbed the loading dock steps. “My neck has been giving me fits this morning.” Sweeping a fringe of bangs out of her eyes, she turned to survey the work already under way. “It looks like you have everything under control as usual, Aquanettia.”
Aquanettia smiled up from her clipboard. “So far, so good. I have you down to help Isaiah pass out supplies when the teams are assembled.” She gestured toward a couple of dogwoods on the edge of the garden. “Your station will be right over there by those trees.”
Zora squinted into the morning sunlight and then put one hand on the back of her neck. “I hope it’s not going to be too strenuous. Do you have a chair I can use, Rita? I really won’t last long at all if I have to stand.”
I assured her that I did and tried again to get inside for coffee. I’d be no good to anyone unless I got a shot or two of caffeine under my belt. But as I reached for the door, Zora let out a heavy sigh and said, “I suppose you both know about the memorial service for Destiny?”
Maybe coffee could wait for a few more minutes. “I hadn’t heard,” I said. “When will it be?”
“Wednesday morning at eleven at the Falcon Brothers Mortuary. We don’t know yet if the police will have finished the autopsy by then, but Moose and Scotty feel the need to do something. There will be a notice in the paper, of course. If you need the address or anything, just give me a call. I know it would mean a lot to both Moose and Scotty if some of the folks from the neighborhood were there.”
I hate funerals and everything that goes with them, but I knew Zora was right. Besides, I felt an obligation to be there. Or maybe after finding Destiny’s body I just needed closure. “Thanks for letting us know,” I said, and made a mental note to talk to the staff about ordering flowers.
Aquanettia’s broad mouth pursed tightly. “They’ve having it in the middle of the workday, meaning we’d have to close up shop? That’s really not practical at all.”
I was a little taken aback by her reaction. She was acting like they were purposely trying to inconvenience the rest of us. It wouldn’t hurt to sacrifice one morning to pay our respects.
Zora’s thoughts must have been running along the same lines because she said, “Well, you know how these things are. It will only be for an hour or so.”
Aquanettia sniffed and flipped pages on her clipboard as she marched toward the stairs.
Zora looked at me with a roll of her eyes as Aquanettia walked away. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She never did like Destiny.”
“So you said before. Still, that seems like a harsh reaction to an argument over a barking dog.”
Zora folded her arms across her chest and slid another look at me from the corners of her eyes. “Well, it wasn’t just the dog, if the truth be told. There were other issues. I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to talk about it in front of her family.”
She had my full attention now. “Oh?”
“Aquanettia accused Destiny of some . . . well, some disturbing behavior. Destiny denied everything, of course. Just as she did with everything else. I wanted to believe her, but I must admit, I sometimes had my doubts.”
Curiosity was eating me alive, but I tried to act casual as I asked, “What kind of disturbing behavior?”
“Oh.” Zora quickly looked down at her hands, as if she was flustered. “I probably shouldn’t say. It was all so nasty—and it might not even be true.”
She couldn’t clam up now! I thought frantically, hoping to find a way to encourage her to keep talking. Strictly out of a sense of civic duty, of course. Sparkle had already admitted to being nervous and I’m sure she wasn’t the only one. Didn’t I have an obligation to my friends and coworkers to find out everything I could?
The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery) Page 15