Previous Confections

by Ruth Hartzler

  I was about to remark on this to Matilda when she snatched away my umbrella. “Eleanor and I are going to edge closer to the tent to see if we can overhear anything,” she said. “It’s best if I’m not seen talking to you for too long as I’m supposed to be a private detective, not your room mate. Thanks for the umbrella.”

  She was already a few steps away from me and clutching the umbrella tightly with both hands. I laughed and said, “You’re welcome. I’ll go and stand under a tree, I guess. Or maybe I’ll just stay in the rain and die from hypothermia.”

  “Excellent. Oh, and Jane—keep your wits about you and your eyes open.” Matilda and Eleanor hurried over to the pavilion tent, taking my umbrella and all chance of dryness with them. The people not huddled under umbrellas congregated in the pavilion tent, and for a moment I thought about disobeying Matilda and joining them, if only to get warm. But I knew that was silly.

  Instead, I scanned the cemetery, looking for the chef. I couldn’t see him, but surely he would attend his boss’s funeral. Most of the men looked alike given that they were all dressed in black suits and their hair was wet and plastered to their heads.

  I walked over to a spreading hickory tree which afforded some shelter from the rain. The rain was unusually cold and I couldn’t stop shivering in my little black dress, the only respectable clothing choice I had for such a solemn occasion. I was lost with my thoughts and jumped when I heard someone speak my name.

  “Jane?” the voice said again, softer this time.

  I turned around. “Oh, Detective McCloud.” I tried not to sound too pleased to see him. “You scared the wits out of me.”

  “Damon.” His voice was warm now as well as soft.

  I smiled. “Damon.”

  “Err, did you forget your umbrella?” he asked me.

  “Oh, no, I’m here with Matilda and Eleanor. They’ve got it.” I waved my hand in the direction of the pavilion tent. “They stole it, actually. So if you’re looking to make a bust…”

  “I’ll arrest them at once,” he said with a smile. Then he went to give me his umbrella. “Take mine before you drown.”

  I waved both hands at him in protest. “I couldn’t possibly. Thanks for the offer though. I’ll just stick to sheltering from the rain under this tree.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” His voice was neither warm nor soft now. “You’re freezing and you are drenched.” Before I knew what was happening, he had taken off his coat and placed it around my shoulders.

  The coat smelled like Damon, all woodlands and saffron.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I simply stammered, “Thank you, thank you.” I stood there awkwardly, trying to not look too pleased with myself. A dashing detective giving me his coat. If only Ted could see me now.

  Damon nodded over to the pavilion tent. “I see your ex-husband and his wife have just arrived.”

  Speak of the devil. I looked up to see Ted and Cherri. I had almost forgotten they would be at the funeral. As I watched, Cherri headed straight for Matilda and Eleanor. I figured she was asking where I was, because they pointed in my direction.

  Cherri then made her way to me, stepping gingerly around the puddles in her impossibly high heels and clutching a flimsy white umbrella which was in imminent danger of collapsing under the rain. At least she had an umbrella, I thought bitterly.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Cherri called out to me. “Darling Jane!”

  “You seem to have made quite good friends with your ex-husband’s wife,” Damon said dryly.

  “She was quite upset when Ted was taken in for questioning,” I said. “She had no one to turn to and maybe she didn’t trust Melissa Matheson or Candace Weatherspoon.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “I was just speaking with the waiter, Trip Rothery, a few minutes ago and he told me that Brendan Bowles had terrible arguments with Marcus Matheson all the time. He was understaffed and Marcus wouldn’t allow a sufficient budget for good quality food. But I suppose you knew that anyway.”

  Damon gave a half nod. “I hope you’re not investigating in the hopes of protecting your ex-husband, Jane.”

  “I wouldn’t care if my ex-husband went to jail forever,” I said. And that was true, only I had promised Cherri, I would help. I wasn’t about to tell the detective that, of course.

  Cherri had reached us by now. She gasped when she saw Damon. “Oh Detective!” she said. “I didn’t know it was you.” She glanced down and blushed.

  “Hello, Mrs. Delight,” he said. “Goodbye for now, Jane.” With that, Damon left me to my ex-husband’s glowing young wife.

  “Was he questioning you about the murder?” Cherri said.

  I shook my head. “Do you have any more information for me?”

  “No, I was hoping you’d have some information for me.”

  “Do you know the chef, Brendan Bowles?”

  Cherri’s umbrella twisted itself inside out and she frantically tried to fix it. “I don’t know him at all.”

  “So I don’t suppose you know if he’s married?”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue,” Cherri said.

  “These Botox parties that Candace has—did a woman by the surname of Bowles ever attend? Or did any of the women who attended ever say she had a husband who was a chef?”

  Cherri appeared to be thinking it over. “Not to my knowledge. I don’t know anyone by the name of Bowles and I don’t know anyone whose husband is a chef.”

  I nodded, but Cherri asked me, “Do you think Brendan Bowles is the murderer?”

  “No, but we have to consider everyone as a suspect,” I told her.

  Cherri had given up trying to fix her umbrella, and threw it to the ground in a huff. “What happened when Matilda questioned Melissa?”

  “Melissa said she had taken out a life insurance policy on her husband ten years ago.” I thought I should find out if Cherri had a life insurance policy on Ted just in case she was the murderer, so I added, “Of course, that isn’t suspicious at all because wives always take out life insurance policies on their husbands. Does Ted have one?”

  Cherri tapped her lip. “I don’t know. He’s never mentioned it.”

  “Are you sure?” I peered into her face.

  “Yes, I think I’d remember if he’d said.”

  Just then I could hear classical music. Cherri grabbed my arm. “It looks like the funeral’s starting. And Jane, why are you wearing that jacket? It’s not very becoming, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “Someone lent it to me because I was cold,” I said.

  She pulled my arm toward her. “You can share my umbrella.”

  The two of us walked over to the grave site under the remains of Cherri’s umbrella. Melissa was standing in front next to the minister. She was clutching her black coat with one hand holding onto her black umbrella with the other. Brendan Bowles, the chef, was standing next to her and next to him was Candace Weatherspoon. I looked around, but could not see any sign of a woman next to Brendan.

  Brendan himself did not appear to have used Botox or dermal fillers. His face looked perfectly untouched. It seemed unlikely to me that he was the murderer given that both Melissa and Candace had free access to Botox. Then again, maybe had he had murdered Marcus with Botox for the very fact he knew Melissa and Candace had access to it.

  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. After all, someone had dropped a vial of Botox in Trip Rothery’s pocket and that is how the police found out so soon that the poison was Botox.

  Cherri pulled me over to Ted, who grunted at me. I assume he was saying Hello.

  I grunted back. “Has your lawyer had a chance to look at those papers yet, Jane?” he whispered at me.

  “Hardly appropriate talk for a funeral, Ted,” I whispered back. “But if the police throw you in jail for Marcus’s murder, I’m sure my lawyer won’t mind sending the amendments to you there.”

  Ted looked shocked. I was glad Cherri hadn’t heard me.

  I edged away from them, s
till clutching Detective McCloud’s coat to me. It smelled heavenly, like him, of the woods and of saffron. I wished I didn’t have to give it back, and then I silently admonished myself for acting like a schoolgirl.

  It was hard to hear what the minister was saying, despite the fact he had a microphone because the rain was absolutely crashing down. I edged closer and nearly bumped into Detective Stirling. I managed to circumnavigate him before he spoke to me. Thankfully for me, he seemed more interested in the service.

  I positioned myself so I was standing directly behind Brendan Bowles so I could speak with him when he left. I looked over and could see Matilda and Eleanor standing nearly behind Weatherspoon. Matilda obviously knew what I was doing, and gave me a nod and a thumbs up.

  As soon as the service was over people congregated around Melissa, leaving me clear to speak with the chef.

  “Hello Mr. Bowles,” I said as he made to walk past me. He looked at me. There was no sign of recognition in his face.

  “I was at the table when Mr. Matheson passed away,” I supplied. “I’m Ted Delight’s ex-wife, Jane.”

  He held out his hand and I shook it. His grip was overly firm. I was glad I wasn’t wearing rings because they would be crushed into my fingers. The feel of jewelry on my skin irritated me for some reason. I figured it was due to the fact I’d been raised Amish and Amish don’t wear jewelry, not even buttons. I had spent the first sixteen years of my life without it. Of course, the Amish reason was vanity.

  “A sad matter,” he said.

  “Yes it is,” I agree. “I hope the police catch the murderer soon.”

  “So do I,” he said. “And Marcus wouldn’t be happy that Melissa intends to sell the business to Candace and Rick.”

  “She is?” I said. “Yes, Marcus certainly would not be happy about that. I know he had business problems, but he wanted to trade out of them.”

  Red splotches appeared on Brendan’s face. “Yes, Marcus would turn in his grave. It was because of the debt, mind you, but it was impossible to run the restaurant with the budget he enforced on us. Candace and Rick will do a much better job. Hopefully, they’ll be able to trade out of the mess the business is in.”

  “So you think they’ll be able to save it?”

  Brendan nodded vigorously. “They have plenty of money, whereas Marcus was practically skint.”

  “Really?” I said. “I knew the business was bad, but I didn’t know he was going broke.”

  “It’s no secret,” Brandon said. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have been long before they foreclosed on his house.”

  I pointed to a random lady standing nearby. “Is that your wife over there?”

  Brendan chuckled. “No, my wife and I divorced a year ago and it was a nasty divorce. It’s put me off women for a while, I can tell you, no offense.”

  I forced a chuckle. So Brendan didn’t have a female friend who could obtain the Botox from one of Candace’s parties. Still, Brendan seemed to be on good terms with Candace and Rick.

  A man approached, clearly wanting to speak with Brendan, so I smiled and walked away. If only I had found out more from Brendan. He had confirmed what we had heard about Marcus’s business going downhill, but I was surprised to learn the news of Marcus’s financial affairs.

  After Brendan and the man shook hands, I saw him walk over to speak with Dr. Davidson. They shook hands warmly and Dr. Davidson patted Brendan on his shoulder. Brendan said something and the doctor laughed. They certainly didn’t look like people who were upset over someone’s funeral.

  There was my direct link. There was no need for Brendan to have a wife or girlfriend who could obtain the Botox from one of Candace’s parties—he could go straight to the source, Dr. Davidson.

  Chapter 16

  That evening, Matilda, Eleanor, and I were sitting in our apartment. Eleanor had put the cat activity tree next to the pole so Mr. Crumbles could slide down, and he was having a lot of fun doing so.

  “You’ll have to move that before Cherri comes,” Matilda scolded her. “It’s just not at all safe, the way he flies off at the end.”

  “But he enjoys it,” Eleanor protested.

  Matilda rolled her eyes. “That’s beside the point as you well know. It’s simply not safe for anyone. Now where could Cherri be? She’s five minutes late.”

  I smiled to myself. Matilda did not like people being late. That, and the fact that she did everything with military precision, made me wonder if she had been in the military in her youth.

  Mr. Crumbles flew through the air once more, his legs outstretched, looking for all the world like a giant bat. “I think he’s covering more distance with practice,” Matilda said in alarm.

  I stood up when the bell to the apartment rang. “I’ll get it,” I said. “It must be Cherri. Eleanor, are you moving that activity tree now?”

  “Yes, Mr. Crumbles has had enough fun for the night.” Eleanor scooped him up and took him away, presumably to give him some treats.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Without the activity tree, Mr. Crumbles could not reach the top of the pole.

  When I reached the front door, I opened it a tiny crack and said, “Cherri, come in quickly, won’t you. Mr. Crumbles always tries to make a run for it.”

  “Yes, I’m always careful, Jane, darling.” She came inside and air kissed me on both cheeks. “I’ve brought chocolates and wine,” she announced proudly.

  “That’s very kind of you. Please come in.” I locked the door behind her and we made our way up the stairs.

  As we walked up the stairs, I wondered when Detective McCloud—I still found it hard to think of him as Damon—would come to collect his coat. I had taken it to the dry cleaners that afternoon. Truth be told, I wished I could have stayed in it all afternoon with it wrapped around me. I probably would have, if it hadn’t been so wet.

  “Matilda and Eleanor darling,” Cherri said by way of greeting. “It’s wonderful to see you. Ted was ever so suspicious about you being a private detective.”

  “Was he suspicious of my fake name, Miss Marple?” Matilda asked her.

  A look of confusion passed across Cherri’s face. “No. Why would he be suspicious?”

  Matilda shook her head. “Never mind. Did he believe you?”

  “Of course he does. Ted always believes me. He never thinks I’m lying.”

  I raised my eyes. I wondered if in fact Cherri had ever lied to Ted. Her tone was entirely too smug.

  “Yes, he asked me again and again where your offices were and I said I couldn’t remember. And then he asked me how I found you and I said on the internet. You have no idea what it’s like to be married to a lawyer. They give you the third degree at every opportunity.”

  “Yes, I’m only too well aware,” I said. The irony appeared to be lost on Cherri. After all, I had been married to the man for decades, a fact which seemed to be eluding her at the present moment.

  “Well isn’t this fun, our own little murder club just like Aurora Teagarden,” Cherri said.

  Matilda’s face lit up. “I do love Aurora Teagarden.”

  “Cherri brought chocolates and wine,” I announced. I headed to the kitchen.

  “Where are you going, Jane darling?” Cherri asked me.

  “To make coffee and fetch the chocolate beet cake,” I said.

  “But darling, I brought wine,” she said. “Bring some wine glasses, won’t you?”

  I switched on the coffee machine. Mr. Crumbles was sitting there giving me his usual look. I wondered what it meant. I just knew he was up to something. I wanted to stay on his good side, so I gave him some treats.

  Unfortunately, Eleanor spied me. “What are you doing?” she called out.

  “Giving Mr. Crumbles some treats,” I said.

  “You should use them sparingly because we don’t want him to get too fat,” Eleanor lectured me.

  Sorry,” I said. Still, if I had to be on someone’s good side, I’d rather be on Mr. Crumbles than Eleanor’s.

  I
took wine glasses and the chocolate beet cake to the living room. “Lovely funeral service today wasn’t it,” Cherri said.

  We all mumbled agreement.

  Matilda cleared her throat. “Now, this is what we found out so far.”

  I waved to Matilda to interrupt her. “Cherri, there’s something we have to tell you about Ted.”

  She went white. “He’s not having an affair, is he?”

  I hesitated, because how on earth would I know whether or not he was. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

  “No, of course not,” Matilda said in a firm voice, but then added, “Not that we know. It’s just I found out some information from Ted and I suggested he tell you first. Has he told you about his brother?”

  “He did say he had something to tell me about his brother, but he hasn’t told me what it is yet.”

  Matilda and I exchanged glances. “We have to tell her,” I said.

  Cherri’s hand flew to her throat. “What is it? How bad is it?”

  “It’s just that many years ago Ted was arrested for being in possession of recreational drugs. He didn’t want to become a lawyer with that on his record, so he gave the police his brother’s name.”

  Cherri did not look surprised, but maybe she’d simply had too much Botox at the party the other night.

  “And Ted paid his brother a lot of money, so they both got what they wanted, I suppose,” I added.

  Cherri appeared to be processing the information. Her face flushed pink and then she took a large gulp of wine. I pushed the box of chocolates over to her and she ate one before speaking. “Ted didn’t tell me.” She looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “He was probably horribly embarrassed,” I said. “He was afraid you’d think badly of him.”