Pasta Mortem

by Ellery Adams

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  “I am sworn to secrecy,” Joy said. “All my dears have known for months. They trusted me enough to tell me their wonderful news when I arranged this reunion.”

  “That’s nice. So what can I help you with?” James asked.

  “I need someone to help me lift the cake off the counter in the kitchen and place it on that table.”

  James looked in the direction she pointed. Near the merchandise table, a long rectangular table had been set up with paper plates and plastic forks. “I’ll help you. Let me take off my coat.”

  As James walked to the empty chair next to his friends, he removed his coat and scarf and draped them over the back.

  Onstage, Doug Moore sang “I Will Always Love You” off-key.

  Bennett looked at James and rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll be right back,” James said. He turned to Lucy. “You’re going to be around, aren’t you? I have some new information.”

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the crowd. “I have news too. Actually, it’s the same old news. I questioned Doug Moore regarding the night of the murder. He didn’t see anyone or hear anything out of the ordinary. Sullie questioned Amber Ross. Same answer.”

  That left Valerie Norris, Murphy’s prime suspect, as the only one who hadn’t been questioned. “Okay, thanks for asking. I’m going to help Joy Carmichael.”

  “Where’s Lindy?” he whispered in Gillian’s ear.

  “Luis took her out to eat,” Gillian replied.

  “It was my idea,” Bennett said. “I told him he needed to romance Lindy back to the house. He’s miserable without her.”

  “I hope it works,” James said before he walked away.

  James noticed that many fans wore the same red heart-shaped button that Joy wore. The one reading “Hearth and Home Always in Our Hearts.”

  In the kitchen, Joy flipped open the top of the large white box that held the cake. Nestled inside was an eighteen-by-twenty-four sheet cake with white icing and “Happy Anniversary, Hearth and Home!” written in blue letters.

  James said, “Let’s take the entire box to the table, then take the cake out.”

  “Good idea,” Joy agreed.

  Once they had the cake set up on the table, James helped Joy put out cups. “Are you happy with the way the reunion events went?” he asked.

  Joy’s face radiated happiness. “Yes, I am. Anytime I can see my kids, my dears—that’s what I call the cast members—I’m in heaven.”

  James noticed that Joy didn’t wear a wedding ring. Married to Hearth and Home. He supposed there was no harm in her devoting herself to a TV show. There were better things Joy could spend her time on, but it wasn’t his place to judge.

  When they finished arranging the table, Joy thanked him and said she would bring out the punch by herself.

  James got to his seat in time to see a man he didn’t recognize take the stage.

  “Folks, I’m Lenny Matthews from the television network that brought you Hearth and Home. I wanted to take this opportunity, while the Hearth and Home family are all together, to announce that there will be a reboot of the Hearth and Home television show.”

  Audible gasps and a burst of loud applause followed this announcement. A photographer stood near the stage. The flash of his camera went off several times.

  Mr. Matthews waited until the audience was quiet, then said, “All the original cast members have signed on. The new show will follow their grown-up lives as they incorporate their values into adulthood. We’ll start filming in three weeks.”

  So this was the big secret. James noticed that Brandon broke into a huge grin. Doug got up and did a little dance of joy. Valerie Norris looked bored. Joel Foster smiled and nodded at the fans. Amber Ross flipped her long hair and sat up straighter.

  Joy got up onstage, a bright, sunny smile on her face, and took the microphone. “Folks, isn’t that the best possible news we could get?”

  Hoots and hollers greeted her words.

  When everyone had calmed down, Joy continued, “We still have merchandise for sale at the back of the room, so feel free to pick up a Hearth and Home button, T-shirt or sweatshirt. And, in a few minutes, we’ll have punch and a special cake to share. Show your ticket to our volunteers.” She stared at a group of four women in the front row, who scrambled from their seats and headed for the cake table. They quickly put slices of cake on plates and began spacing them around the table. “Now, let’s all give a big round of applause to thank our dear cast members, who continue to bless us with their love and talent.”

  The actors stood and bowed. The crowd gave them a standing ovation then began a stampede toward the cake.

  At that moment, James noticed Sheriff Huckabee enter the hall. He made his way to the side of the stage, where Joy diverted him.

  “What’s happening?” James asked Lucy.

  Lucy crouched down in front of the other supper club members. “The sheriff is going to tell Brandon, Joel, Doug, Valerie, and Amber that they can’t leave town yet because they’re potential witnesses in an ongoing murder investigation. Sshhh, don’t tell anyone. I have to go back him up.” She walked down the aisle briskly.

  Bennett whistled. “That news won’t go down well with those actors.”

  “I bet they were all planning on getting on a plane out of here tonight,” Gillian said.

  “Maybe this means Sheriff Huckabee isn’t convinced Murphy is the killer,” Bennett said.

  Gillian rested her head on his shoulder. “I hope so.”

  Bennett scraped his chair away so fast that Gillian fell sideways before she jerked herself upright.

  “Woman, what are you thinking?” Bennett’s gaze darted around, as if making sure no one had seen Gillian’s affectionate act.

  Gillian gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t drape yourself over me like that in public. Are you crazy?”

  Gillian’s cheeks turned bright pink. “You have to get over this irrational fear that people won’t approve of our relationship because we’re an interracial couple. Times have changed.”

  “Not that much.”

  “Bennett, are you going to refuse to hold my hand when we walk down the street even after we’re married?”

  Bennett’s eyes popped out like a cartoon character’s. “Married?” he squeaked. “We’re never getting married! Everything is fine as it is. You have your house. That’s fine! I have my house. That’s fine! We’re not changing anything because everything is fine!”

  Gillian’s face fell. She stared at Bennett for what felt like minutes. Then, with a clinking of her silver bracelets, she picked up her purple cape and swung it around her shoulders. Holding her head high, she left without saying another word.

  Obviously, everything was not fine.

  Bennett stood looking after her as if paralyzed. “She doesn’t understand,” he muttered. “She doesn’t know.”

  “What doesn’t she know, Bennett?” James asked.

  “I can’t marry her. I can’t.”

  “Why not? Have you two discussed marriage?”

  “No! Never!”

  “Maybe Gillian sees marriage as a natural progression of your relationship. She was married once before, a long time ago. Her husband was killed. Remember when she told us about it? Someone ran him down while he was riding his bicycle.”

  Bennett tugged hard on his mustache, a sure sign that he was distressed. “I know.”

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  “’Course I do. Said so when I was on Jeopardy! That’s national television! Why isn’t that good enough for her?”

  “Maybe she wants to make a home with you.”

  “That would be a mistake,” Bennett said. “A huge mistake.”

  James didn’t want to press his friend further when he was so upset. Instead he said, “I’ve been wondering, why does Gillian want you to shave off your mustache?”

  Bennett trembled. “Says it scratches her. I
’m not shaving it off. I’m not marrying her. I want some cake.”

  James said, “Sit down, friend. I’ll get you a piece.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  While James ate his yogurt Monday morning, Jim Topling the meteorologist cheerfully told him that the temperature outside was fifteen degrees. “Our devious snowstorm is playing shy, but she’ll show her vengeance any time now,” Topling proclaimed gleefully from the kitchen television.

  Jane zipped Eliot’s lunch bag. “Why is Topling calling the storm a ‘she’?”

  “Because he’s a dumbass,” Eliot said. Then he paled under the stern gazes of both his parents. “That’s what you said, Daddy.”

  Jane shot James a severe look, ruined by the fact that her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Still, she composed herself and joined James in a short but potent discussion with Eliot about bad words. This included an apology from James. “I shouldn’t have used that word, Eliot, and neither should you.”

  “Okay,” Eliot said. “Can I get my coat now? Do we have time to feed the birds? They must be extra cold and hungry.”

  “Yes,” Jane said. “I’ll help you get your coat and hat on.”

  Miss Pickles took up her post at the window, where she could safely boss the birds and squirrels around, chattering and twitching her tail.

  After kissing Jane goodbye and apologizing again for soiling their son’s ears, James led Eliot through the biting cold to the multilevel birdhouse. James held his son up so that the boy could pour out the birdseed.

  “Daddy, am I in trouble? Will you still read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to me before bed?”

  James eased his son down until his feet touched the frozen grass. He spread some of the birdseed on the ground, hoping the squirrels would eat that instead of hogging the feeder. “You’re not in any trouble, son. We talked about the bad word and now it’s over. We’ll read tonight.”

  “I’m glad. I was thinking, Daddy. See my tree house?”

  “Yes,” James said patiently, even though he felt like his eyelids would freeze any second.

  “It needs a secret closet so I can pretend to go to Narnia.”

  “Wardrobe,” James corrected as he used a clothespin to secure the bag of birdseed. “We’ll see about constructing something when the weather gets warm. Now, I think it’s time to get going.”

  James saw Eliot to the bus and, as usual, waved until he was out of sight. He got in the Bronco, hoping it would start when he turned the key. He smiled when it did and sat for a few minutes while the truck warmed up.

  Then James realized something. He struck his forehead. “Of course! I’m so stupid for not thinking of it before!”

  Excited, he drove through the streets of Quincy’s Gap in a hurry to get to the library. He did notice that there were far fewer people around. The folks in town for the reunion had left, and with the fate of the development up in the air, potential residents had gone too. His little town was back to normal.

  James remembered to grab the books out of the outside book return drop, then he unlocked the library door, flicked on the lights, turned up the heat, and went into the break room. He stored his lunch in the fridge. Was eight forty too early to call Mrs. Lydell? He decided it was and struggled to contain his impatience.

  The Fitzgerald twins arrived, cheeks ruddy from the cold. “Hey, Professor,” Scott said. “I hope that snow we’re supposed to get comes on our day off. Francis and I want to go snowboarding.”

  “We’ve never been. Can you believe it?” Francis asked, taking off his coat.

  James stood behind the counter, checking in the books from the book return drop. “That depends. Have either of you ever broken an arm or a leg?”

  The twins laughed, then must have realized James was serious. “No, Professor,” Scott said.

  “Please keep it that way. I want you to have fun, but I need the two of you here sans crutches or casts. I’m sure you’ve found a professional to give you some lessons before you hit the slopes.”

  The twins looked at one another. “Dude,” Francis said. “We need to get online and do some research.”

  James held up a hand. “One other thing. Wednesday is Valentine’s Day.”

  “Like we could forget with the Valentine tree and the conversation hearts,” Scott said.

  “What do the two of you have planned for Fern and Willow?” James asked. “I’m not trying to be nosy; I thought I could offer some advice.”

  Scott and Francis beamed in unison. Francis said, “We’ve got it covered. Wait until you hear this.”

  “Let me tell him,” Scott said. “Professor, you’re gonna be astounded at our brilliance.”

  “Good,” James said. “Those are two nice young ladies and they deserve your brilliance.”

  Scott said, “We’ve got the new Nintendo Switch complete with the Mario and Rabbids Kingdom Battle video game! We’re having Fern and Willow over to play the game and eat pizza. What could be better?”

  James hid his dismay. “Oh, I didn’t know Fern and Willow liked video games.”

  The twins’ smiles vanished. Scott said, “Everyone likes video games, right?”

  “Sure they do,” Francis said in a weak voice.

  James thought quickly. “The evening you’ve got planned sounds great. Maybe you could add one thing to it.”

  “What?” the twins asked at once.

  “Allow me to help. I’ll talk to Milla about putting together extra-special boxes of candy from Quincy’s Whimsies for Fern and Willow. I know Willow works there, but Milla can keep a secret. How about that? You know how women are about Valentine’s Day and chocolate.”

  “Right, right,” Scott agreed. “Do you think she has any Super Mario–shaped chocolates?”

  “Um, I can check,” James said.

  “That would be awesome, Professor. We like chocolate too,” Francis said. “We’ll pay Mrs. Henry whatever it costs, don’t worry.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Let me call her right now. Why don’t you two start shelving these books?”

  James waited until the twins were busy in the stacks before he picked up the phone and dialed his father’s number. Milla answered on the first ring.

  “Hello, James, how are you?” she asked.

  From the downtrodden tone of her voice, James knew that his father had not apologized for his behavior the previous day. Maybe preparing boxes of chocolate for Fern and Willow would take her mind off things. At least he hoped so. “Milla, I have a special chocolate mission for you to undertake, if you’re willing to accept it.”

  “What is it, dear?”

  “Are you going in to work at Quincy’s Whimsies?”

  “Oh, yes. We’re awfully busy with Valentine’s Day this Wednesday. Jackson told me he’s going to paint today. I’m fixing him a lunch to leave in the refrigerator.”

  James explained the situation, ending with, “Do you think you’ll have time to make up the boxes? What about Willow? Do you think you can keep what you’re doing from her?”

  Milla chuckled. “That young lady is very intelligent. I’ll wait until she’s on lunch break. Failing that, I can always tell her that I’m going in the back to make up something for Jane.”

  “Jane,” James said in a faint voice.

  “James, don’t tell me you haven’t gotten a Valentine’s present for Jane yet.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you,” James said, feeling short of breath.

  “All right, now calm down. I can hear you gasping for breath. I’ll make up a box for Jane too. I’ll let you know when everything is ready. I’ll bring everything to the house. You can pick it up there.”

  “You’re an angel on Earth, Milla. I can’t believe I didn’t think of something for Jane. I’m a terrible husband.”

  “No, dear, you’re human. You’ve been doing a lot at home, I imagine, you have a full-time job, and you’ve got a lot going on with this murder investigation, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t ex
cuse my thoughtlessness. I probably wouldn’t have remembered until the day itself.”

  “Stop now,” Milla said. “You’re going to have a lovely box of chocolates for Jane. It’s all handled.”

  James thanked Milla again and hung up the phone. First Eliot had picked up a bad word from him, then he’d forgotten his wife’s—his pregnant wife’s—Valentine’s gift. Really batting a thousand, aren’t you, he asked himself. He felt especially ashamed as, when they’d been married before, James had been lax about buying Jane gifts. He vowed not to make the same mistake twice.

  A rush of patrons kept him busy for the next hour. Instead of the planned development, everyone speculated on the impending snow. How would Quincy’s Gap cope with record-breaking snow totals? How long would they be without power? How much bread and milk should they buy?

  Finally, at almost eleven, James had a chance to call Mrs. Lydell. When he put his question to her she said, “Why, I haven’t thought of that in years, but yes, there is, and exactly where you guessed.”

  They spoke for a few more minutes. When James hung up, his mind raced, but he couldn’t devote himself to conjecture because the patrons continued to pour into the library.

  At noon, there was a lull. James sent the twins to the break room to eat lunch. He called Lucy and got her voice mail. He left a message asking her to come to the library as soon as she could. He had information that would change the entire investigation.

  He was looking over a catalogue of newly released books about thirty minutes later when Bennett burst through the door. His eyes were huge. His uniform looked like it had been dragged through a hedge. He had powdered sugar around his mouth, on his sleeve, and on his hands. He dropped the library mail on the counter. “She won’t take my calls. I’ve been trying since last night. I’ve left eleven voice mails. I texted her, too. I need to use the computer here. I can send her an email.”

  “Slow down.” James kept his tone calm. “We’re talking about Gillian, right?”

  “Of course we are!”

  Library patrons looked their way, their disapproval of Bennett’s loud voice clear.