The Diva Cooks a Goose

by Krista Davis

  He rinsed a glass at the sink. “Jen has three competent and doting grandparents keeping her busy. Laci is the one who needs me most right now. I’m sleeping with one ear open, just in case Marnie and Shawna try to pull a fast one and leave for Pennsylvania.”

  Laci held Alice on her lap and stroked the tiny kitten with a gentle hand. “Do you think Jasper can survive the cold?”

  I opened my mouth to say “no way” but George spoke first. “Animals have instincts, honey. He’ll curl up somewhere. For all we know, someone might have found him and right now he’s fast asleep in a cozy bed.”

  Laci nodded and headed up to bed with Alice.

  I wanted to think George was right. “Do you really think that?”

  He looked out the window. “Don’t you see the hollows under Laci’s eyes? She has to get some sleep.” He turned to face me, and patted Daisy. “The only thing we have going for us is that Marnie and Phil live in another state. I can’t wait until they pack up their problems and take them home, and my family can get back to life without constant drama.”

  I checked the doors to be sure they were locked, and the two of us walked upstairs, followed by Daisy and Mochie. I changed into warm flannel pajamas that my mother insisted would keep me single for the rest of my life, and snuggled under the down comforter on my bed. Mochie walked over, settled on my chest, and purred. As I ran my hand over his silky fur, I wanted to cry about Jasper. I knew it wasn’t Natasha’s fault that someone bashed her over the head, causing her to drop the basket with the kittens, and I felt sooooo guilty for worrying more about Jasper than about Natasha, but she was probably in her bed, all toasty, and poor little Jasper might not survive the night. If she hadn’t been so furphobic and hadn’t carried the kittens back and forth, Jasper wouldn’t be out in the freezing cold. Mochie had enough petting and stretched out near my feet. For one hour, I tossed and turned.

  If there was anything I hated, it was being totally exhausted and unable to sleep. I finally gave up when I heard the front door shut. Hannah must have come home. Daisy bounded down the stairs ahead of Mochie and me, but when we reached the foyer, there was no sign of Hannah.

  We walked through the dark kitchen and the sunroom, but I didn’t see anyone. What if Marnie and Shawna had slipped past George?

  I dashed up the stairs to the room I’d prepared for Shawna. Opening the door ever so quietly, I peered inside. A lump lay in the middle of the bed. That was an old trick. Every kid in the world knew to plump up pillows so it looked like someone was in the bed. I tiptoed in for a closer look. Shawna slept, emitting tiny little snores.

  So why had I heard the front door shut? I returned to the foyer and opened the door to look outside. Laci scurried up to the door, holding her coat closed against the blustery weather. The wind blew wild snowflakes inside, prompting me to shut the door quickly behind her.

  Smiling, she unfastened her coat and revealed Jasper. “I can’t believe it. I went out to look for him again, and when I called his name, he came running up to me!” Tears rolled down her face. “You knew I would be looking for you, didn’t you, Jasper?”

  Daisy wagged her tail in approval, but Mochie hissed and shot up the stairs.

  I had a feeling Laci’s tears were for more than the kittens, but I didn’t mind one bit, especially since I had a feeling Jen would finally be getting the kittens she’d wanted so badly.

  When Laci could bring herself to release him, Jasper chowed down on kitty tuna until I thought his little tummy couldn’t hold any more.

  “Everything is going to be okay now,” murmured Laci. “This is a sign. My family will be fine.”

  I’d never heard Laci talk about signs. She always had her lists and seemed so no-nonsense. Maybe she had another side that she didn’t show as often.

  The kitchen door banged open and Hannah burst in, bringing a cold gust with her.

  “It’s horrible out there!” Laci shielded little Jasper with her hands.

  “Is it?” said Hannah. “I hadn’t noticed.” She dropped her coat on a chair and floated to the fridge. “White wine, anyone?”

  Laci’s eyes met mine and we giggled. There was no denying the dreaminess of a new infatuation.

  “Actually,” said Laci, “I’d like more of the glühwein if there’s any left.”

  “I missed that?” cried Hannah.

  I poured the leftover wine into a pot to warm. “You missed more than wine.” I placed gingerbread dogs and heart-shaped Linzer cookies on a platter and set it on the table. While Laci brought Hannah up-to-date about the kittens and Natasha, I revived the fire from the embers.

  I divided the spiced red wine into three glass mugs, turned on the tiny Christmas lights, and doused the other lights. The fire crackled and cast shadows on the walls in my cozy kitchen.

  “Mmm, I love the raspberry jam in these Linzer cookies.” Hannah took another bite. “Well, I have to say that I never expected anyone to go after Natasha. This changes everything.”

  I gripped the mug in my hands to warm up. “Unless Natasha was attacked by someone who doesn’t agree with her proclamation that pink and turquoise are the new red and green, I think the killer might have made a big mistake tonight. If we can find out who doesn’t have an alibi, we’ve got him.”

  “Or her,” added Hannah.

  “Yes, please! Let’s do that. If we could just nail the real killer, Shawna would be totally cleared.” Laci sat back in her chair like she was tired. “And we know she didn’t try to strangle Natasha because she was in the car with George and me at the time.”

  “Forrest and Ginger were in the area, because I saw both of them.” I tried one of the gingerbread dogs, savoring the mild tang of the spices.

  “And Tom was here to visit the kittens,” mused Laci. “Who does that leave?”

  I ate more of the cookie quickly so I wouldn’t be tempted to mention her mother. Marnie had been mercurial at best, and I wasn’t about to eliminate her from my private list.

  “We can write off Emma and Dasher. They’ve been gone for days,” offered Hannah.

  “Tyler?” I said.

  Laci frowned. “I have trouble imagining that Tyler or Edward could be involved.” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “But that’s the point of all this. Maybe we can’t cross them off as suspects. We can ask around, find out where they were when Natasha was attacked.”

  “Have we missed anyone?” I sipped the wine, thinking I should make some for Wolf when he came back.

  “Uh, what about Phil?” Hannah leaned a bit like she thought she might have to duck.

  Laci must have been more tired than I thought. She barely fought back. “Dad? I don’t think so. He’s such a teddy bear.”

  “He was with Mom and Dad shortly before the attack on Natasha. He probably could have made it here, time-wise, but they would have noticed that he left. I suspect Mom will confirm he was with them the whole time.” Now if only we knew where her mother had been.

  Agreeing that we would ask some discreet questions in the morning, I tamped out the fire and Hannah cleared the table, while Laci looked for Jasper. She took him up to bed with her. Daisy and I walked upstairs, followed by Hannah, who whispered, “I thought Laci didn’t want any pets.”

  “Sometimes they wriggle into your heart when you least expect it.”

  Hannah continued up the stairs and I peeled off to my bedroom, where I snuggled under my down comforter with Daisy and Mochie curled on top of it.

  New Year’s Eve morning, I slept late and was shocked to find I was the first one up. It had been a tough week for everyone—except Hannah, who’d been out late with Zack every night. She stumbled into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.

  “Coffee?”

  “No one else is up. I thought I’d walk Daisy down to the bakery to pick up some breakfast breads.”

  “Next year I’m staying at Natasha’s house. I bet her guests wake up to bedside coffee and croissants.”

  “You can stay at her house anytim
e you like.”

  Hannah stretched. “Oh please. Even I make coffee for company.”

  “Come with me, and I’ll buy you one.” I didn’t tell her that I’d set the coffee machine to start brewing in half an hour.

  Inga Bauer would have been mortified to see her grown daughters schlepping along the street to the bakery wearing a colorful mismatched assortment of shapeless fleece pants and jackets, mufflers, gloves, and hats. The only thing that would have pleased her was that we were barely recognizable.

  Daisy pranced ahead of us while Hannah and I discussed Natasha’s close call.

  “The more I think about it,” said Hannah, “the more I think Ginger is trying to murder Natasha. She must believe that killing Natasha will magically open up a domestic diva slot in the cosmos that Ginger can step into.”

  “Don’t you suppose there was more to it than that? You know Natasha can be imperious. Maybe she put down Dickensian decor. It’s clearly Ginger’s thing.”

  Hannah tugged at her muffler. “Do you think Natasha has some kind of dirt on her that Ginger doesn’t want made public? If the cops thought I had tried to murder someone, I don’t think I’d trot right back out and try again unless I needed to shut that person up.”

  Hannah had a valid point. Had Ginger been desperate enough to make another attempt on Natasha’s life when the cops were already on to her?

  We reached the bakery and I handed Daisy’s leash to Hannah. “I won’t be long.”

  A warm vent blew inside the door of the bakery, taking off the chill. I felt guilty about leaving Hannah and Daisy out in the cold, but gladly unwrapped my muffler and started to pull my hat off until a familiar voice caught my attention.

  Not four feet away, standing with his back to me, Forrest Chadwick peered into the bakery case. It wasn’t exactly the crack of dawn, but certainly early enough for me to wonder why he was in Old Town. Why wasn’t he at work?

  I pulled my hat down, whirled around, and wrapped the muffler up over my nose. I dashed outside and tugged Hannah and Daisy across the street, where I hoped we could observe him without being noticed.

  “Forrest is there!” The story of seeing him in Old Town in front of that empty building spilled out of me. “I bet he’s buying breakfast for Marnie.”

  Hannah peered at me over the fuzzy edge of her muffler. “Being in a bakery doesn’t mean anything, Sophie. Besides, Marnie is probably still at your house, fast asleep.”

  “There he is!” We watched as he passed us on the other side of the street. “He has three giant coffees and a huge box of baked goods.”

  Hannah crept forward. “What are you waiting for? Let’s follow him.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  From “Ask Natasha” :

  Dear Natasha,

  Every day I waste time hunting for keys. We have three teenage drivers in the house, which mean keys can be in purses, pockets, and under the bed. How do I prevent key-mania?

  —Dizzy in Dasher, Georgia

  Dear Dizzy,

  Keys should be left close to the entry and exit point. Make your own key holder to match your decor. It’s so simple! Paint a board that can be mounted on the wall. Stencil names on it, or a morning glory vine, or ivy! Screw cup hooks onto the board and you’re done! The next one who does not return the keys to the assigned spot loses driving privileges for three days. That should solve your problem!

  —Natasha

  Exactly as I’d expected, Forrest hurried back to the empty building. He extracted a key from his pocket, let himself in, and disappeared inside.

  Hannah and I stared through the plate glass window, but the main floor remained dark and quiet.

  “I know how to get to the bottom of this.” Hannah squinted at the rental sign in the front window, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and pushed a few buttons. She exaggerated her Southern accent. “Mary Smith here, darlin’. I am standin’ outside your adorable buildin’ on St. Asaph Street ...”

  I cringed. Especially when she said, “What? Well, isn’t that a cryin’ shame? The whole buildin’? Upstairs, too?”

  She hung up, clearly proud of herself.

  “You know that Realtor must have caller ID.”

  “It’s my cell. For some odd reason it always shows Virginia on caller ID. Besides, I got the scoop. The building has been rented by a Mr. Forrest Chadwick, who intends to open a bakery! What’s more, he took the upper floors, too, because he plans to live upstairs with his son.”

  I sagged against the window. Did Ginger know? I couldn’t imagine her being willing to live above a bakery. She’d mentioned wanting to move to Old Town, but she’d talked about a house near Natasha’s. “I guess Forrest was checking out the competition at the other bakery. Why wouldn’t he have told me when I saw him here the other day? Why act so secretive? And why three coffees?”

  “Could we speculate about this back at the house by the fire?” Hannah handed me the leash. “This time I’m going into the bakery to warm up.”

  Once Hannah had purchased breakfast pastries, we hurried home. I confess I was relieved to know that Forrest wasn’t involved in anything devious.

  We walked into my kitchen to a chorus of complaints from George, Laci, and Shawna. I opened the boxes and arranged pastries on a large white serving platter before taking off my coat. George and Shawna dug in immediately, glad to have a morning nosh with their coffees.

  Laci worked at the stove. “Just scrambling eggs. Nothing fancy.”

  I slid off my coat. “Where’s Marnie?”

  George did not sound happy when he reported, “She left. Said she had an appointment.”

  Hannah sidled over to me and whispered, “Maybe you were right about Marnie and Forrest. But there were three cups of coffee. Who’s the third person? Surely they wouldn’t include Edward yet?”

  George eyed us with the wariness born of being the only brother of two sisters. “What are you whispering about?”

  I glanced at Laci, not sure how she might take my theory about her mother. “We saw Forrest buying three coffees and a host of pastries. Hannah made a call and discovered that he has rented a restaurant in Old Town to open a bakery, and he plans to live upstairs.”

  “Whoa!” George swallowed a piece of chocolate croissant. “They’ll be selling their house then!”

  I shot him a don’t-be-dense look. “Can you really see Ginger living in a walk-up over a bakery?”

  Laci spooned eggs onto a plate for George. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Forrest has been miserable in his job for years. I guess he finally reached a point where he decided to make a change. Good for him!”

  “Ugh, I hope Ginger doesn’t keep the house. She’s the scourge of the neighborhood. Having her next door without Forrest there to calm her would be a nightmare.” George tasted his eggs.

  “For his sake, I hope they’re separating. Forrest has put up with Ginger far too long,” said Laci.

  George stopped eating and focused on Hannah. “Hold it, Lace. There’s more to this. Hannah and Sophie wouldn’t bother whispering if there weren’t.”

  “We think he’s having an affair with Marnie,” Hannah blurted out.

  The serving spoon in Laci’s hand clattered to the floor. “You can’t be serious!”

  George laughed so hard he choked and had to drink juice to get his voice back. “Marnie is too old for Forrest. He’s not that desperate! Who would trade a wicked witch like Ginger for a nut like Marnie?”

  Laci glared at him until George muttered, “Oh, come on, Laci. Even you have to agree that Marnie is a little bit—unusual.”

  “My mother is still very attractive and a sweet and loving person.”

  Hannah frowned at me. “She is a little bit old for Forrest.”

  I guessed about ten years difference. It wasn’t inconceivable. “Then where was she last night when you brought Shawna to my place?”

  Laci plunked the egg pan on the stove. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m just wondering wher
e she was all afternoon yesterday and where she is now?”

  Shawna had been very quiet, but she finally murmured, “Yeah. Why wasn’t Mom here waiting for me?”

  Laci plopped into a chair and pulled her sweater tight as though she’d grown cold. “I hope you’re not suggesting she had anything to do with strangling Natasha.”

  The thought had crossed my mind. “She did show a tendency to undress Santa Claus and wear his clothes, and I’m fairly certain the killer wore Mrs. Claus’s skirt yesterday.” Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said “killer.”

  “You think Mom is the murderer?” Laci rose and paced the kitchen. “How dare you? She was never around that music box. No way.”

  “Except maybe when we left Bonnie’s party, and Marnie went shopping on her own and then got drunk. She could have returned to the restaurant and tampered with the gift.”

  “I thought you liked me,” whined Laci. “Why are you doing this?”

  I stroked her shoulder, but she brushed my hand away. “Someone attacked Natasha, and it was most likely the same person who killed Bonnie. If we knew where Marnie was, we could eliminate her as a suspect.”

  Laci leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips.

  George groaned. “Why don’t you just ask her?”

  Laci headed for the phone exactly as someone banged the knocker on the front door.

  Daisy followed me to the foyer, and I opened the door to find Tyler on the stoop.

  “Uh, hi. I heard Shawna might be here?”

  I invited him in, and he followed me to the kitchen. When he saw Shawna, he said, “You look pretty good for a jailbird.”

  “Want some breakfast?” she asked.

  “Just coffee. Forrest Chadwick brought us cupcakes yesterday, and I had a couple for breakfast. How do you feel?”

  “Great!” Shawna poured him a mug of coffee, and I noticed that she didn’t have to ask how he took it. “Is it okay if we drink these in your sunroom, Sophie?” she asked.