Cooking Spirits: An Angie Amalfi Mystery (Angie Amalfi Mysteries)

by Joanne Pence

  The two gray and white clapboard homes appeared surprisingly out-of-place among the mansions that made up the bulk of the Sea Cliff, one of the city’s priciest neighborhoods. They seemed all but forgotten out on the small strip of land.

  “The house looks a bit dated, don’t you think?” Cat stood with one hand on her hip, eying the property. “And there's nothing else here but that little cottage. It looks lonely.”

  “Lonely? It’s surrounded by open space!” Angie eyed her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “That’s desirable in a city. A little landscaping and fresh paint and it’ll look one-hundred percent better. Let’s see the inside.”

  Cat’s expression was decidedly sour as she opened the lock box to remove the front door key. Normally, Angie’s suspicions would rise at too good of a price for a house, and she would walk away from it. Cat’s reluctance to show it to her, however, had the opposite effect.

  When Cat opened the door, Angie’s thoughts turned from obstinate to ecstatic. The foyer led directly to the living room with a wall of windows.

  “The view is breathtaking!” The picture windows faced north to Baker’s Beach on the western edge of the Presidio with a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge spanning the water to Marin County. Looking west out over the Pacific, she could see the Farallon Islands, for once not lost in fog.

  Angie struggled to turn her gaze back to the house. Furniture filled the living room and dining area beside it. “I thought you said no one lived here,” Angie said.

  “No one is living here,” Cat repeated. “The furniture comes with the house. If you don’t want it, the seller will move it out before you take possession.”

  “Well, if I were to take the place, this furniture would all go! It’s old and hideous.”

  As Angie slid open the glass door to the back garden and stepped outside, Caterina’s phone chimed news of a text message causing her to dig into her purse to find it. At the same time, the candy dish on the coffee table rose up high in the air and then dropped with a thud onto the area rug.

  Angie walked a little way out onto the patio. The yard had a level area, and then sloped downward. A surrounding fence gave protection from the area’s namesake, the sea cliff.

  “It’s a client,” Cat said as she composed a reply. “Give me a moment before we see the rest of the house, okay?” Cat hit “send” and then looked up. “Angie?” Finally, she stuck her head outside. “What are you doing? I thought I heard you come back inside. I’ve been in here talking to myself!”

  “Just looking around.” Angie went back indoors.

  “That yard will never do once you have kids,” Cat said, pulling the sliding glass door shut. “They’d be over that fence and playing on the cliff in no time at all.”

  “You may be right,” Angie said. “But by the time Paavo and I have kids old enough to go outside and play without being watched, I suspect we’ll do like so many people and move out of San Francisco. While we’re newlyweds, however, I plan to enjoy city life. Let’s see the kitchen.”

  They walked through the dining area which also had a wall of windows facing the ocean, to the kitchen. The wall between the kitchen and dining room had been removed. The bar and stools in its place gave the kitchen an open and airy feel.

  “This kitchen is a nightmare,” Cat said, running her hand over the off-white porcelain tile countertops. The appliances were also white. “I’d need sunglasses to work in here.”

  The refrigerator door suddenly swung open. Then, the oven door did the same.

  “My God, these appliances really are old,” Angie said as she shut both doors. “Or they were badly mishandled by someone. Not that it matters. I would want new, top-of-the-line appliances and granite countertops wherever I lived. This kitchen could be made truly beautiful!”

  The refrigerator door opened once more and she gave it a shove with her elbow, closing it as she moved out of the kitchen. The more she saw of the house, the less sense it made that it hadn’t sold, and that the owners weren’t asking twice as much for it.

  On the opposite side of the living room, a large master bedroom and bath also faced the water. One small room, perfect for a den or a future nursery, was across the hall from it, along with a guest powder room. Upstairs were two more bedrooms and a full bathroom. The view from the upstairs bedrooms was even more breath-taking than on the main level. Angie could see making one a guest room and the letting Paavo have the other to use as an office, man-cave, or whatever he wanted.

  Angie was beside herself at this find. “If Paavo and I were to buy this house,” she said, “Paavo could either sell his house or rent it out and put the rent money towards the mortgage. We could make this work, you know.” She glanced at her sister. “By the way, your perfume is awfully strong. I noticed it when I came downstairs.”

  “Strong? It’s the same as always!” Cat said indignantly. “But I think you’ve gotten ahead of yourself. There are better houses out there than this one.”

  “But none with a better view or price!” Angie went off to see the laundry room, mudroom and garage. Cat stayed in the living room and made a quick phone call back to her office manager.

  “I think I’m falling in love,” Angie said as she rejoined her sister.

  Cat had just ended the call, dropped the phone back into her handbag and faced Angie with a big smile. “If you really want to buy the place, I’m sure I could get a good deal for you. I still owe you for that little incident that sent us to Italy. I’ll even throw in my share of the commission. Call it a wedding present for you and Paavo.”

  “Really? That’s awfully generous.” Angie just stared at her, wondering what was up. Familial love didn’t flow in Cat’s veins; money did.

  “Nothing’s too good for my baby sister.”

  Now, Angie felt certain something odd was going on, but she was too excited to care. She spotted the candy dish on the floor. “Funny, I hadn’t noticed that before,” she said as she picked it up and put it back where it belonged. “This house could be the one!”

  “You’ll have to get Paavo out here right away,” Cat advised. “Why don’t you call him and see when he’s available?”

  Angie grew even more suspicious of her sister’s about face. “Wait, let me think about this first,” she said. “The problem is, it’s too perfect…except for this hideous furniture. It’s been on the market a long time, so why hasn’t it sold? I’d like to know more before I get Paavo involved. Could you find out its history? You said others dropped out of the deal. I’d like to know why.”

  “What does it matter what others did if you love it?” Cat asked, with an emphasis on the word ‘love.’

  Cat’s words and demeanor troubled Angie. “I’m not going to think about buying a place that has some kind of bad karma or mystery attached to it.” Her tone was emphatic and determined. “Find out all you can. Also, I want Connie to see it and hear its story. Only if everything sounds good will I bring Paavo out here.”

  “Connie? You’re kidding me!” Cat shuddered.

  “Connie has a clear head. She’ll be perfect.”

  “Whatever,” Cat muttered as they went out the door.

  As they walked out to Cat’s car, they missed what seemed to be an act of ceramic suicide as the candy dish rose off the table, flew through the air, hit the stonework around the fireplace and landed in tiny pieces on the hearth.

  Evelyn Ramirez, the Medical Examiner, called Paavo to her office. It was in the basement, along with the city morgue and the autopsy room.

  “I haven’t had a chance to do the autopsy yet,” she said, “but I found something that might help identify the victim, or at least give you a clue to someone who knows him.”

  She picked up an evidence bag with a piece of a business card inside it. “It was covered in blood and stuck to some clothing. I suspect that’s why whoever removed everything else missed this. I used a wash to remove as much of the blood as I could. In any case, I did some investigating of my own with the help
of a phone book.” The book lay open behind her desk and she pointed to an advertisement in it as she spoke. “The card looks like it’s from Zygog Software in South San Francisco. You can see that the ‘Zyg’ and the logo match Zygog’s. I’m not sure of the name on the card, but it looks like ‘Tay’ something. The rest of the card hasn’t been found yet.”

  “Good job,” Paavo said. “This gives us a start. The fingerprints, such as they were, got us nowhere.”

  Paavo and Yosh immediately drove to Zygog and asked to speak to the head of the personnel department. They explained the situation, leaving out most of the gorier details, and showed him a photo of the business card.

  “That’s our card, all right,” Larry Peters said. “Tay…hmm. We have a Taylor Bedford who’s our top salesmen. Let’s hope it’s not him. But your victim could easily be one of his clients. Let’s see if Taylor’s available to speak with you.” Peters picked up the office phone and punched in a number.

  He looked pale as he hung up and faced he detectives. “The staff secretary said he hasn’t arrived yet. He is expected; he should have been here by now.”

  Paavo glanced at Yosh, then said, “May we see his boss?”

  “Certainly.” Peters led them to Mark Carter’s office and quickly explained the situation.

  “Let’s hope Taylor is all right,” Carter said. He was in his fifties, slim, with glasses and a receding hairline.

  “Would you describe Bedford to us?” Paavo asked.

  “He’s a bit over six feet, good physique—probably goes to the gym while he travels to stay fit. Brown hair; brown eyes.”

  “Age?” Paavo asked.

  “Forty.”

  “Distinguishing marks or anything about him that might help with identification?”

  “Nothing I know of,” Carter said.

  The description fit that of their victim, as best they and the M.E. could tell.

  “Would you like me to call his home?” Carter asked. “He should have returned on Friday. Maybe he’s simply sick.”

  Paavo and Yosh listened as Carter talked to Larina Bedford. She said she expected Taylor home last night but he hadn’t made it. She had thought about calling Carter to ask him where Taylor might be, but decided to wait a little longer.

  “I can’t imagine what happened to him,” Carter said to Mrs. Bedford. “But on the road things sometimes do get screwed-up. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from him.” With that he hung up and faced the detectives. “This doesn’t look good at all.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Paavo agreed. He and Yosh wrote down Taylor Bedford’s home address and phone number, plus other identifying information.

  “Before we go,” Paavo said to Carter, “what’s Taylor Bedford’s position here?”

  “Sales. Our company produces one-stop software that helps tool and die manufacturers and sales companies inventory and price their equipment, send bills, and so on. It also provides software assistance to mechanical engineers who work closely with the tool and die makers. Taylor’s territory is northern California. He travels two weeks a month to visit clients and find new ones.”

  “How easy is it to learn to sell such software?” Yosh asked.

  “Not easy at all. It’s a rarified world. That’s why Taylor has a huge territory and travels so much. He’s our most dedicated salesmen. I have to believe he’s all right.”

  Chapter 5

  CONNIE ROGERS LOCKED up her gift shop, Everyone’s Fancy, at six o’clock on the nose and followed the directions Angie gave her to Clover Lane. She arrived twenty minutes later.

  As usual, she was on time; Angie was not. Connie and Angie met when Paavo investigated the murder of her sister, Tiffany, some time back. They immediately hit it off and had been close friends ever since. She once heard Angie’s oldest sister refer to her as “Ethel” to Angie’s “Lucy,” which she found insulting to both of them…most of the time.

  Ten minutes later, Angie’s silver Mercedes CL600 coupe pulled into the driveway next to Connie’s ancient red Toyota Corolla. Cat’s white BMW SUV right parked behind her. “Thank you so much for meeting us,” Angie said to Connie as she got out of her car.

  “I’m glad to help. From the outside it looks promising,” Connie said. “Great neighborhood.”

  “We’ll go in and look around. Cat’s still trying to find out the history of the place. As soon as she does, she’ll tell me everything she’s learned.”

  Cat walked up to them. “I’ll let you two in, but then I’ve got to run. It’s a long drive to Tiburon, and I want to get home before dark. Now, Angie, I’m trusting you to lock up the place before you leave. You know how important it is to me that you don’t mess up anything if I give you this key.”

  “I know, I know. I’m not a child!” Angie wondered when her big sister would stop treating her like an idiot. “But first, have you found out anything at all yet?”

  “Not much,” Cat said. “The owner is a widow. Apparently, she used to live in the house, but after her husband died she moved out and it became a rental. Now, her daughter put the house up for sale. I suppose the owner is too old to handle her affairs anymore.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” Angie said. “But it doesn’t tell me why it’s so cheap and hasn’t sold in…how long has it been on the market?”

  “Two years. But the real estate market has been soft.”

  “Not in San Francisco.” Angie glanced down the lane to Sea Cliff Avenue. “And especially not in this neighborhood.”

  Cat had no answer.

  “All right, let’s go inside,” Angie said.

  Cat opened the lockbox, and removed the key. “I could just unlock the door, and then put the key back in this box.” Cat gave Angie a stern look. “But in case you two lock yourself out of the house by mistake, or find some other door that needs to be unlocked with the key, I’m going to trust you with it.”

  “All right, already!” Angie found all her older sisters very exasperating at times.

  Cat showed her how to relock the box after placing the key back inside. She then left.

  “Are you sure you want my opinion?” Connie asked as Angie unlocked the door. “If you love the house, what does it matter what I think?”

  “I value your opinion,” Angie said. “Also, I want to see it without Cat standing over me. She’s acting very strange about this place. One minute she says I don’t want it, and the next she’s practically insisting I buy it. Something’s going on with her, and I don’t know what it is.”

  “What worries me,” Connie said, “is that the house was a rental, and now has sat empty for a couple of years. Clearly, there’s something wrong with it. The land alone is worth what they’re asking. You and Cat both know that, Angie. I’ll look at it, but you need to as well, and not in a starry-eyed way.”

  “I’m never starry-eyed,” Angie said. “Although this place is a quite a steal. Let’s go in.”

  She opened the front door, and Connie’s immediate reaction was everything Angie had hoped for. The view was even more breath-taking now than it had been earlier because the sunset over the ocean had turned the sky a cascade of red and orange.

  “Oh no, what’s this?” Angie hurried to the broken candy dish on the fireplace hearth. “This wasn’t here earlier. It must mean somebody else has come to see the house! Somebody else might be interested! Someone might even make an offer on it before I get a chance!”

  “Calm down. It’s been empty for a couple of years; it won’t sell overnight,” Connie said as she wandered into the kitchen, then stuck her head into the garage before heading towards the opposite side of the house to see the bedrooms and bathrooms.

  “What do you think?” Angie asked hopefully.

  “It’s a beautiful house, but…” Connie put her hands on her hips and looked around. “I don’t know. This whole place has a strange vibe, as if someone is still living here. It feels as if the owner could come walking through that door any second and demand we leave.”


  “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Angie said.

  Connie wouldn’t let it go. “I wonder why the owner isn’t still using it as a rental. Why leave it empty for two years? And what’s with all the furniture?”

  “You’ve made your point.” Angie folded her arms. She had thought much the same thing, but hearing Connie voice the concerns didn’t make her happy.

  Connie still wasn’t through. “Keeping the house meant the owner dusted, vacuumed, did yard work, and paid taxes on it. That’s crazy. I believe if something is too good to be true, run. This deal is definitely too good to be true.”

  Angie cringed. “Don’t you trust my sister?” she demanded. The question sounded lame even to her.

  “I trust you,” Connie said. To her, Caterina and Angie were mirror images. While Angie was remarkably selfless when she wasn’t in monomaniacal one-track-mind mode such as with this house, Cat was completely, unabashedly selfish. When both were on the same wave length, heaven help anyone standing in their way. In fact, all five of the Amalfi sisters were that way.

  Behind them, a vase with silk flowers rose up, suspended in mid-air, from the small round table it decorated.

  “The house does seem perfect,” Connie admitted. “And it also seems you’ve made up your mind about it, no matter what I say.”

  “I’m sorry,” Angie said, realizing she ran roughshod over her friend’s opinion. “You’re right that I’m looking at it purely emotionally. I need your clear-headed thinking. What am I overlooking?”

  Connie folded her arms and walked around. “I don’t know. Rationally, it’s great. It’s got a fantastic location. How many homes in San Francisco aren’t squeezed between two others? Your neighbor sneezes and you shout ‘Gesundheit!’ It’s a nice size; it’s pretty and well built. You’ll get a home inspection so you’ll know if it needs a new roof, or new electrical wiring, and so forth. There’s nothing I can rationally object to.”