by Krista Davis
“Where’s the van?” I asked.
Whispering, Emma said, “In the alley. Dasher went out last night and switched license plates.”
“You’re an idiot, Emma!” The angry voice came from above. “Why not tell them everything?”
I bit my lip to keep from reacting. Did he think if we didn’t see him, we couldn’t report his presence to the police?
She forced a smile. “Could I offer you something?” She looked around. “Dad made these Red Velvet Cupcakes. They’re my favorite, and from the way I’ve been craving them, I think they’re the baby’s favorites, too. He made a small batch in a hurry while Mom was out. She doesn’t like him using the kitchen.”
We looked at the three cupcakes sitting on a paper plate, and I hated to eat them when she obviously loved them so much.
As though she read our minds, Emma said, “Oh, but you have to try one! He made them with organic ingredients and no red dyes, because of the pregnancy and all.”
“I’d love to have a husband who baked.” Hannah took one and split it with me.
“Me, too,” whispered Emma. “I think it makes Mom feel inferior because he’s so good at baking. They came out great, don’t you think?”
“Delicious,” I assured her. “Will he offer these in the bakery?”
Her face fell. “How could you know about that? My mom and Edward don’t even know. Mom thinks he’s still going to work every day. Please don’t tell her. She’d turn in Dasher in a heartbeat. And me, too, probably.”
I smiled reassuringly, but I had a bad feeling her mom wasn’t her only problem anymore. Dasher hadn’t said one nice thing to her since our arrival. Had she subconsciously selected a mate who treated her as poorly as her mother did? “Who’d have thought the music box you gave your mom would cause so much trouble?”
“She never should have bought it. We could have lived a week on what she paid for that thing.” Dasher’s voice came from the stairwell loud and clear.
Emma dropped into a wicker chair, her expression weary. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a mother. All he had was Bonnie. I thought Mom would cherish the music box, and love me for it. Dad told me her colors this year were red and gold, and I wrapped it so beautifully.”
Emma knew her mother’s color scheme? I tried not to show a reaction to her statement, even though it troubled me. If Emma had wrapped the gift correctly in red and gold, but it was wrapped in red and green when Ginger received it, then she had almost certainly been the intended victim. The murderer must have unwrapped it, installed the gas, and then wrapped it back up again. What other reason could there be to rewrap it?
She glanced at the stairs before whispering, “The truly awful thing is that I know I should feel terrible about Bonnie’s death, but the thing that hurts the most is that Mom regifted the music box. It was like she was getting rid of me by giving it to someone else.”
Tears came to my eyes and I was furious with Ginger for being so heartless. No wonder someone wanted to do away with her.
Striving to sound casual so she wouldn’t know I was trying to reconstruct what happened, I said, “Edward told me you sent your gifts ahead of time?”
Emma spoke in a soft voice. “We didn’t think we’d have the money to come for Christmas ...”
“We would have if you hadn’t spent so much on your mother!” No matter how softly Emma spoke, Dasher didn’t miss a word.
“... so we wrapped everything up and Dasher took it all to the post office to pack in one of those flat-rate boxes. A good thing since the music box weighed so much. I was afraid Mom might intercept the box and throw everything out if we sent it to my parents, so we shipped it to Tom and put in a note asking him to give my family’s gifts to my dad.”
Interesting. Dasher, Tyler, Tom, Edward, and Forrest all had access to the gifts and could have tampered with the music box intended for Ginger. But whoever did it had made a huge error that narrowed the field of contenders.
I listened to Hannah chat with Emma for a few minutes so it wouldn’t be too obvious that I was itching to leave, then suggested we’d better get going before someone recognized my car and wondered what I was doing there.
When we were safely in the hybrid and headed home, I spilled my theories to Hannah. “The killer didn’t know about Ginger’s Christmas package color scheme. That eliminates Forrest and Edward. They would have known for sure.”
“Are you going to call Kenner?”
I guessed I would have to. Why wasn’t Wolf home yet? Kenner would think I wanted a date for New Year’s Eve tonight. I hated to reveal Emma’s whereabouts, but I couldn’t see any way around that—unless we managed to give Emma a heads-up and get her out of there. Of course, once they had the killer, the police wouldn’t care about Emma.
“It could still be Ginger, you know.”
“I don’t think so. If I can believe Edward, and Ginger came home to rewrap the music box and give it to Natasha that night, then she didn’t really have much time to set up the poison inside. Plus Ginger would have been smart enough to ditch the Mrs. Claus outfit in its entirety in the river. No, Hannah, I think the killer tripped himself up by using the wrong wrapping paper.”
“The music box!” cried Hannah. “Tom said Dasher isn’t adept with his hands. Whoever installed the poison in the music box had to be clever and very good at tinkering with things.”
“I wonder if it’s true that Dasher isn’t good with his hands. He and Emma make a living selling their artwork.”
“There are all kinds of art. He might be a great photographer, for instance, and completely inept at sculpting wood or making poison music boxes.”
I stopped for a light and looked over at my sister. “Or Tom could have said that about his youngest son to throw us off his trail.”
THIRTY-THREE
From “Ask Natasha” :
Dear Natasha,
My husband is on the verge of leaving me because of my shoes! I adore shoes, but they’re all over the floor of our walk-in closet. I can’t get rid of them. Help!
—Aching in Tar Heel, North Carolina
Dear Aching,
Buy an old dresser with deep drawers. Paint or stencil it to match your decor. Divide the drawers into shoe-size sections with narrow planks of cedar. Your shoes will have a lovely dust-free home and they won’t be underfoot anymore.
—Natasha
“Dasher tampered with the music box figuring he had an alibi because they were out of town!” exclaimed Hannah. “Sounds like something a worm like him would do.”
“Seems like Emma would have told him about her mother’s gift wrap rules, though. I think we’ve narrowed it to Tom and Tyler.” I pulled into a parking space near my house.
“Tyler!” exclaimed Hannah. “Sophie, we’re supposed to be looking for Tyler and Shawna.”
I rubbed my eyes. In my excitement at narrowing the suspects, I’d completely forgotten about Shawna. “We’re already home. Maybe we should make sure they didn’t come back?”
We plodded along the sidewalk and were almost at my house when we heard doors slam and angry shouts.
It wasn’t hard to find Laci and Shawna screaming at each other on the sidewalk.
“Mom and Dad paid a lot of cash to get you out of jail. I’m not letting them lose it!”
Shawna spat back, “Oh, right. Did it ever occur to you that I might need a few things from the drugstore—like makeup and a toothbrush? It’s not as though Tyler drove me out of state. You had no business dragging me out of the store. Like it wasn’t humiliating enough to go to jail? My own sister has to hunt me down and embarrass me in public, too? And then to make me ride back with you and George like a child!”
“You couldn’t have told me where you were going? Would that really have been too much to expect of you?”
George slid a hand over his face, dragging his features down like a Dali painting. “Could we at least take this inside?”
George tried to steer Laci along the sid
ewalk. Hannah and I brought up the rear, walking behind Tyler and Shawna. They all came to an abrupt and silent halt at my front door. I unlocked it and watched as they filed inside, thinking about how I could get Tyler to confess.
Daisy greeted everyone with doggy glee, wagging her tail so hard it went in a circle. How could Natasha not adore her?
I opened the door to the den and the kittens scampered through the foyer, but Mochie bore down on them at rocket speed and all three cats scrambled toward the kitchen.
I snagged George’s sleeve. “I talked to Tom about the kittens, and he was okay with giving them to Jen. We might buy him a nice gift since they cost so much and he’s not charging us.”
George leaned to the side—I presumed to be sure Laci was in the kitchen and wouldn’t hear him. “This has been such a wonky holiday. Jen will be overjoyed. She deserves something special. I still can’t believe that Laci changed her mind about the kittens.”
“You can thank Jasper for getting lost and running to her in the dark of night.”
George peered into the kitchen again. “It’s going to be miserable hanging around here watching Shawna. So here’s my plan. I’m taking Laci, Shawna, and Tyler to the six o’clock movie. At least they won’t yell at each other in the movie theater. We should be back around eight thirty for your fondue dinner. Luckily Mom and Dad will be here tonight for dinner and the New Year’s Eve fireworks. More people will make it easier to keep track of Shawna so she can’t pull any more stunts. Want to come to the movie with us?”
George knew I had to fix everything for our New Year’s Eve dinner. Still, it was nice of him to ask. “I’ll hold down the fort. What are you going to do with Shawna the day after tomorrow, when we all have to go back to work?”
I saw terror in his eyes. “Mom and Dad will have to help out, I guess. I don’t think we can trust Marnie and Phil to keep Shawna in check.”
We ventured into the kitchen, where Laci and Shawna glared at each other, and Hannah unpacked Chinese food. She’d bought enough to feed an army.
I was handing out white plates with ornate yellow and red borders, which Mars’s Aunt Faye had brought back from Hong Kong, when Hannah brushed by me and whispered, “I’m calling Zack about the stolen gifts in Tyler’s car.”
The time had come, I supposed. She scuttled off to make her call, and I tried hard not to stare at Tyler lest I alert him. Poor Shawna. Dumped by Beau, thrown in jail, and now her new crush, Tyler, would be arrested for stealing the gifts and, worse, maybe for murder.
Shawna shed her shoes. “I am half frozen.” She peeled wet socks off her feet. “Did you bring me socks and shoes?”
Laci winced. “Your feet are two sizes larger than mine, and you know it.”
“How did you get so wet?” asked George.
“Not all the sidewalks are clean. I guess I stepped in snow,” muttered Shawna.
Guilt saddled me. I hadn’t cleaned my sidewalks the way I should have.
“Man, this floor is cold. I want to go home and get clothes! Socks and shoes and my fuzzy slippers!” Shawna groaned.
Tyler stood. “I’ll take you. We can go right now. You’ll feel much better once you have your own stuff.”
George moaned. “Let’s not start that again.”
We had to keep him and his SUV here until Zack arrived.
Laci jumped up and barred the door. A futile move, really, but quite dramatic. “You’re not going anywhere. We just engaged in a wild-goose chase. How can you be so immature? Don’t you understand what’s at stake here?”
“Like you would wear the same outfit for days on end, Miss Clothes Horse?” Shawna mimicked Laci’s voice and mannerisms perfectly, as though she’d been doing it for years. “Oh! I must go to the mall and buy new clothes.” Then Shawna reverted to yelling. “I was in jail! All I want is go to my apartment and get a few things.”
“In the first place, I have never been a clothes horse.” Laci had regained her composure and spoke with the calm sensibility that she used when reasoning with Jen. “You’re talking about things I did when I was a teenager. However, you appear to be overlooking the fact that I hadn’t been arrested for murder, I wasn’t out on bail, and neither the cops nor a bail bondsman cared what I did or where I went.” She returned to her seat at the table. “Make a list. I’ll drive over to your place and pick up what you need.”
It seemed reasonable to me, but Shawna screamed, “So you can snoop in my apartment? I think not.”
“Would you rather George went?”
Shawna didn’t respond. It seemed to me that she didn’t have a lot of choices.
Hannah returned to the table and appeared comfortable with her deception about calling Zack. She smiled and joked about sisters who fight.
To drag out lunch and keep Tyler around, instead of offering Christmas cookies for dessert, I promised my company warm chocolate chip cookies from my stash in the freezer.
I heated the oven and cut the frozen dough into slices, which I quartered and placed on a baking tray. Once they’d been eaten, I would have to rely on Shawna’s allure to keep Tyler around until Zack arrived.
I needn’t have worried. About the time Tyler bit into his second cookie, he and Shawna had started grinning at each other, and from the little chuckles they tried to hide, I had a feeling a game of footsie had commenced under the table.
To keep myself from pacing, I washed dishes, spending most of the time looking out the window toward the street. When Hannah jumped up and ran to the front door, I breathed easier. She intercepted Zack before he knocked, and after a mushy kiss that made me miss Wolf, she escorted him in the direction of Tyler’s SUV.
George dried dishes beside me, but he didn’t miss Zack and Hannah strolling arm in arm away from my house. He nudged me with his elbow at the same time that Laci said, “Is that Zack?”
What seemed like an eternity of horrified silence followed until I blurted out, “He’s Hannah’s date for New Year’s Eve.” Never mind that he was hours early. To distract everyone from Zack’s presence, I asked, “Tyler, did your dad find a date for tonight?”
Tyler turned his head toward me and blinked. “Dad? He doesn’t date.”
“My mom has been trying to match him up with someone,” I explained.
“She won’t have much luck. Women have chased him since Mom died but he likes being the single guy without any ‘entanglements,’ as he calls them.”
I didn’t think I should be the one to break the news that his father had a change of heart. Plus, Hannah and Zack hurried toward my house wearing grim expressions. I braced myself for the confrontation between Zack and Tyler.
Zack opened the door to the kitchen and held it for Hannah, who entered saying, “It’s cold out there. How about some hot lattes, Soph?”
Okay, so they were going to take the casual approach. Did Zack intend to play the good guy and weasel the truth out of Tyler? I put rich Dallmayr House Blend coffee on to brew, fumbling a bit because I was antsy about Tyler’s imminent arrest.
Hannah brushed by me. “You won’t believe this.”
I followed her into the foyer, where she hung coats in the closet.
“Everything is gone. The back of Tyler’s car is completely empty.”
THIRTY-FOUR
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :
Dear Sophie,
I thought our storage problems were over when we built a shed in the backyard. Now I’m afraid to go in there because of the mice and squirrels. How do we keep them out of the birdseed?
—Musaphobic on Snake River
Dear Musaphobic,
Eliminate anything mice like to eat. Try not to store garden seeds, birdseed, dog food, or anything edible in the shed. If you must store those items, put them inside old-fashioned metal trash cans and weigh down the lids. Mice will eat through plastic. Most importantly, seal all holes, no matter how small, and make sure the doors shut tightly.
—Sophie
“Tyler must have been on to us.” I
closed the closet door and leaned against it.
Hannah grimaced. “Zack wants to play it cool and see what he can find out.”
“Find out?” I hissed in a whisper. “They obviously pulled that stunt to get away from us and unload the stolen goods. Think they took everything to Shawna’s place?”
“Or back to Bonnie’s.”
“That can’t be. We were there.”
“They might have waited for us to leave. Remember, we picked up Chinese and paid a visit to Emma.”
“Did you tell Zack about Emma?”
The corners of Hannah’s mouth twitched down. “Technically Bonnie’s murder isn’t Zack’s case. It’s your boyfriend who is looking for them.”
“Would you stop calling him that? Someone is likely to believe you.” I could understand why she wanted to justify not turning in Emma and Dasher. Of course, we didn’t know if Kenner had put out a warrant for them. Maybe they weren’t wanted at all. On the other hand, what if there was another murder and I was wrong about the suspects? If Emma and Dasher were the killers, it would be our fault for not revealing their whereabouts. “What if we’re dead wrong and they kill someone else?”
“What are you whispering about?” George emerged from the kitchen and Hannah caught him up to speed. “I wish Wolf were back. He’s always so sensible about these things.”
“Look,” said Hannah, “the killer was after Ginger. All we have to do is let her know that the killer might still be around. That way she can watch out.”
George’s eyes turned up to the ceiling when he growled, “I think she knows that!”