Pudding Up With Murder

by Julia Buckley

  Peach waved. “I saw you at the bookstore, and at Grampa’s party.”

  “Yes.” I waited until she moved closer, and I shook her little hand. “I wanted to thank you for introducing me to the Miss Moxie books. I’ve read two of them, and they were great.”

  “You should read all of them,” she said. “We could have a tea party and talk about them. I do that with my mom. We call it book club.”

  “I would love to be in that book club,” I said enthusiastically.

  Emma Cantwell’s voice said, “We’ll have to invite her next time, won’t we, Peach?”

  Peach hugged her mother’s leg, and I stood up. “Hello, Emma. How are you holding up today?”

  She shrugged. “It was a nice service. We’re happy that so many people came out for Dad. So I’m doing okay.” Her eyes were dry now, but her smudged makeup told the tale of her grief.

  “You have made quite an impression on all of my children,” she said. “They are smitten with you.”

  I smiled at her. “They are great kids. But I think today they only have eyes for Miss Braidwell.”

  Emma glanced over at Jenny, who was talking with Ellie, and nodded. “So sweet of her to come.”

  “She’s a great person.”

  “Oh? You know Miss Braidwell?”

  “We were college roommates.”

  Emma’s smile was big and genuine. “What a small world! That is neat.”

  Tim Britton appeared and put his arm around his wife. She leaned back ever so slightly, into him, and his grip tightened. It made me feel good to see not only that he was there for his wife, but that she was willing to accept his support, to let him be strong for her. “Hello,” he said. “Lilah, right? Good to see you again.”

  Emma stayed tucked into him as she said, “Lilah was college roommates with Carrie’s Miss Braidwell.”

  Now it was Tim’s turn to smile. “Is that so? We heard a little rumor that Miss Braidwell is engaged.”

  “She is. I’m to be maid of honor.”

  “That’s exciting,” Emma said.

  “She’s marrying another teacher at the school—Ross Peterson.”

  Tim and Emma both started laughing, and I stared. “Is that funny?”

  “Sorry,” Tim said. “It’s just funny, because when we were at parent-teacher conferences last month, Em went on and on about how surprised she was that Miss Braidwell was single, and that she couldn’t believe someone as cute as Mr. Peterson was around and not asking her out.”

  “Well, you were right on the money, because I think Ross has had eyes only for Jenny for quite some time. They started going out around Christmastime.”

  “That’s sweet,” Emma said. “The kids are going to make such a big deal of it. Even Tim will be excited when he hears, and he’s normally too cool to get enthused about things with the girls.” She and her husband exchanged a fond glance.

  Tim Senior said, “Speaking of our kids, I’d better go round up the older ones and take them to the car. It was good seeing you, Lilah.”

  “You, too.” I waved as he moved away, and then Emma was pushing Peach toward me.

  “Say your good-byes, Peachie. We’re going to pray for Grandpa and then have some lunch.”

  “Bye,” Peach said. “See you at book club.”

  I waved, and they moved down the steps and toward their car.

  I turned to see that Cash Cantwell was near me, in a close and serious conversation with Amber. He saw me and lifted a hand. “Hey, Lilah! I don’t know if you’ve ever met Amber Warfield. She’s a friend of mine.” They exchanged a mysterious glance that they assumed I couldn’t see. What did it mean? That she was his half sister, but they assumed no one knew that?

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Hi,” Amber offered with a little smile. She wasn’t as tiny as she had looked in the photo, but she was petite and pretty in a freckled way.

  I could feel Parker’s blue gaze on us from his unobtrusive post. Soon he would be swooping in and telling her he needed to ask a few questions. “So how do you two know each other?” I asked.

  Cash scratched his arm and scanned the people on the steps around us. “I started hanging out with Amber around the time I graduated high school. I think we met at a party or something. She just came up to me and said hi. And we found out we had a lot in common.”

  “Wade said he was a part of your group, too.”

  Cash nodded. “Wade and I started hanging out after I graduated, and I introduced him to Amber. And the three of us—I guess we’ve been kind of a trio for a while now. The three of us started doing some stuff together and going to the same parties and stuff.” He looked at Amber, who nodded with a pixielike grin.

  I could actually feel someone staring at us, and I turned, expecting to see Parker, but instead got the full effect of the glare from Lola, Grimaldi’s niece. I looked back at the two in front of me and realized how it must have looked to Lola—handsome Cash wearing a rare suit and standing next to a pretty girl.

  Amber had spied someone she knew. “I’m going to say hi to Jonah,” she told Cash.

  He nodded. “See you later.”

  “Nice meeting you,” I said, and then Amber was gone.

  Cash had spied Lola and called out to her, but Lola flounced away in the other direction. Even at a funeral she could play the role of the jilted woman.

  Cash looked dejected, and I touched his arm. If one more guy failed to see the giant cues a woman was sending, I would despair for the species. “Cash, do you know why she’s always walking away from you?”

  His eyes were wide. “You noticed that, too?”

  I sighed. “Cash. Everyone sees it, because she’s really obvious, hoping you’ll pick up on her message.”

  He looked at me, his face a blank.

  “She likes you. She obviously still likes you, and she is jealous because you were talking to Amber, who is pretty.”

  “But—why did she walk away, then?”

  “Because, Cash—she is angry and feels rejected by you. Your role in this elaborate dance is to chase her down and say you still like her, too. You might have to do this more than once. Then she will admit she likes you, and then you can kiss her and all will be well.”

  “Who says I still like her, too?” he said weakly, his eyes on Lola. I rolled my eyes at him, and he laughed. “Okay. I get it. I’m not that stupid. I’ll take your advice.”

  “Not this instant, because that would be weird timing. We’re standing in front of a hearse, which Lola should be acknowledging. But soon. You can resolve it soon.”

  To my surprise, Cash pulled me into a sudden crushing hug and said, “I like you, Lilah. I knew I liked you on the first day when you were at my dad’s party with your dog.”

  “I like you, too, Cash. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  He let me go and smiled. “I was talking with my brothers and sisters today, and it was good to talk—to just kind of air everything. I think we’re all going to be okay.”

  Just as he said this I saw Scott Cantwell standing near the hearse and glaring at someone nearby. I craned my neck to follow his line of vision and saw Prudence and Damen talking to some people on the sidewalk. Scott’s venom seemed to be aimed at his sister. This gave me a bad feeling. What had Prudence said about Scott and money? That he had always been “a greedy little boy.” What would make Scott angry with Prudence?

  I felt a sudden chill, and it wasn’t just the spring breeze. Could Scott feel angry enough to have shot a bullet through Britt’s gallery? None of the siblings had been there with Prudence.

  A moment later Scott moved away, and I wondered if I had overreacted. Perhaps too much people-watching was having an effect on me. I was ready to leave this place and get back to work. I joined Ellie and Jenny and told them as much.

  “I have to get to work, t
oo,” Jenny said, looking at her watch. “My sub was only for the morning.”

  Ellie nodded. “Will you drop me off at home, Lilah? I think Jay is busy.”

  “Of course. Then we can chat.”

  Parker and Grimaldi were still in scanning mode, but they had homed in on Amber and were moving down the steps, slow and careful as predators. I jogged up toward Jay. “I know you’re working—I’m just saying good-bye. Maybe I’ll see you later. See you, Maria.”

  “See you, Lilah,” she said, moving past me.

  Parker held my arm. “What were you talking about with our friend Amber?”

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing. Cash just introduced me, and I asked how they knew each other. They’re all in the same group of friends—Cash, Amber, Wade. Somehow they all know Lola, too, I think, or maybe that’s just Cash. I’m not sure. He met Amber at a party, right around the time Cash graduated. About two years ago.“

  “Good to know,” Parker said. His phone buzzed with a text message, and he glanced at it automatically, then looked more closely. “What the hell?” he said, mostly to himself.

  “What is it?”

  He looked up at me with a slightly distant expression. “Oh—nothing. It’s not related to work, I don’t think.” His eyes flicked away; Maria had caught up with Amber and was talking to her.

  He looked back at me. “I have to leave now. I’ll try to keep in contact.”

  “You do that,” I said. I edged a little closer and said, “I took a mildly incriminating photo of you last night, so you’ll want to stay in touch and make sure I can be trusted with it.”

  He grinned. “Don’t leave town.” He moved past me and followed Maria, who was leading Amber down the stairs and toward her waiting car. Amber seemed confused, and her body language suggested that she was posing numerous questions to Grimaldi. Maria’s nonverbal communication suggested a reluctance to answer those questions until they got to the station. Finally Amber shrugged. Jay joined them and said something to Amber, and they all got into the police vehicle.

  I felt a burst of sympathy for Amber. I would not have wanted to be interrogated by Jay Parker, especially if he felt I had held out on him. Upon reflection I realized that I had in fact been in just that position with Parker, and it was not a pleasant experience.

  My bet was that if Amber had any secrets, Jay and Maria would get them this time.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  At Haven it soon became clear that something had changed between Gabby and Will. We all stood at our morning stations, preparing food for a brunch at the women’s club, and Will couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from Gabby’s face. She in turn seemed hyperaware of his gaze and blushed about every thirty seconds.

  Esther rolled her eyes at me. We had both thought things would be better if they stopped fighting, but this was potentially more annoying. Was it something about the warmer weather? I wondered. Cash was in love with Lola, Will was in love with Gabby, Ross was in love with Jenny, Damen was in love with Prue, Terry was in love with Britt . . .

  And I was in love with Jay Parker.

  Esther seemed to read my mind. “Spring is in the air today, isn’t it? What’s that quote about young lovers and spring?” She smiled down at her phyllo dough.

  Gabby blushed again and lifted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, just noticing the lovely scent of spring,” Esther said.

  Will was barely paying attention. He was focused on his pastry, which was going to be the star of the dessert table. Occasionally his eyes darted to Gabby, whose hair looked more glossy than usual. He didn’t seem to remember that Esther and I were there.

  Jim came in and opened the large wall fridge, gathering ingredients. “Lilah,” he said, “I was thinking, after your conversation with Will the other day, that Cantwell was a familiar name to me, too.”

  I looked up from my mini quiche cups. “You knew Cantwell?”

  “No, not at all. Just the name stood out in my head, and I knew it was connected to a news story—a kind of old one.”

  “Jim never forgets a name,” Esther said almost accusingly.

  Jim shrugged. “I really don’t. I just have that kind of brain. Anyway, I went on Google and searched for the headline. I knew it had been an act of violence. And I found it—I printed it out for you to give to Jay.”

  “Well, now I’m dying of curiosity. Can you sum it up?”

  Jim had everyone’s attention now. “This was fifteen years ago. The headline was ‘Local Businessman Stabbed.’”

  “What?” I said. “Do you mean Cantwell?”

  Jim nodded. “He was well-known even then—a pillar of the Pine Haven business community. He showed up at the emergency room with a stab wound to the arm. He claimed that he had harmed himself doing what he called ‘a household project,’ but the doctors didn’t buy it. They called in the police.”

  “Oh my gosh!” I said. Then a new thought occurred to me. “I saw a scar on Cantwell’s arm on the day I met him. I asked if it was from surgery, and he wouldn’t respond.”

  “He wouldn’t then, either. The police tried to investigate but got nowhere because Cantwell wouldn’t cooperate.”

  I thought about this as I poured batter into dough cups. Fifteen years earlier, someone had potentially disliked Cantwell so much that they had stabbed him—perhaps in a fight? Cantwell, for whatever reason, had not wanted to expose that person. But if he had had an enemy then, might he not have the same enemy now? And if he was willing to protect the one who stabbed him—could it have been one of his children?

  Jim was shaking his head as he arranged some greens around a tray that would hold canapes. “I felt bad for Cantwell at the time. I can still remember thinking, when I saw the news coverage of Cantwell as he left the police station, that he looked like a lost man.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure how to say it,” Jim said. “I guess I felt at the time that he looked very sorry more than anything.” His kind brown eyes met mine. “He looked full of remorse.”

  • • •

  I ESCAPED TO the washroom, where I called Parker, whose sexy voice briefly distracted me.

  “Parker,” I said.

  “Hey! What’s happening? Didn’t we just say good-bye?”

  “Yeah, but I just heard something. Did you know that someone stabbed Marcus Cantwell fifteen years ago? It’s got to be in your police computer somewhere.”

  “What? Let me call you back later, babe.”

  “Okay.” I hung up but stayed in the bathroom for a while, because I couldn’t get the stupid grin off of my face. Babe. God, I was as bad as Gabby.

  I went back out to the worktable, where everyone had now become absorbed in his or her task. Jim’s face was still grave, and I realized that Cantwell’s story must have been truly striking to have stayed with Jim for fifteen years.

  What, I wondered, would fill a man with remorse when he was the one who had been stabbed?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  On the way home I stopped at the grocery store for my weekly shopping. I moved quickly through the aisles, tossing things in my cart and looking at my watch. Mick was really going to need some outside time soon.

  I dialed Parker again and waited on hold while the receptionist tried to find him. What had her name been? Patty? No, Penny. I got in a checkout line and starting unpacking my cart. The hold music at the police station was conflicting with the grocery store music. The police line was playing “Killing Me Softly”—did they not find that ironic?—and the store was playing a Coldplay tune. They would both stick in my head, I was sure.

  “Jay Parker.”

  “Hi. I know you’re super busy, but I just want to know if I’ll be seeing you tonight.”

  “No, probably not. And I’m very sorry to say that.”

  “I know.” My voice sounded smug.


  “But look on your porch. A little elf delivered something for me.”

  “How exciting! I can’t wait.”

  “I’ll call you when I can. Probably tomorrow. But you can text me tonight. I’ll read them.”

  “Okay, sweetie.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Are you free for lunch tomorrow, maybe? I could drive out and steal you away for half an hour.”

  There was a pause; it was slightly longer than it should have been. “Uh—no. I think I’ll be busy tomorrow at lunch. We’ll work something out.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I am confident that when you do have free time, you will come home to me.”

  “You’re right about that. I’ve got to go.”

  “Love you,” I said.

  “I love you, too,” said Jay Parker.

  • • •

  I GOT HOME and lugged some groceries up the steps. A little white bag sat in front of my door, with a card jutting out of it. Excited, I unlocked the house, ran to the kitchen to unload the groceries and let out my dog, and then came back to retrieve the little bag. I opened the package to find a beautiful glass paperweight with a perfect red rose preserved inside.

  The card was still tucked into the bag. I pulled it out and opened it to find Jay’s familiar scrawl. “The other roses will die,” he said. “But this one never will.”

  I stared at the sentiment for a while, then put both the card and the glass ball on my windowsill, where the beautiful crystal would catch the changing light.

  I let Mick back in and put some food and water in his bowls. Then I grabbed my cell phone and hit speed dial number two: my parents. The phone rang three times before my mother picked it up. “Hello?”