The Missing Ingredient

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The Missing Ingredient Page 8

by Diane Noble


  Kate hadn’t been surprised to hear that Sheriff Roberts was considering her a prime suspect and had ordered her not to leave town. Kate hadn’t been the only one to hear the threats, and there was a possibility others had noticed the mud on her tires.

  But Susannah was devastated. “I would never hurt Newt,” she said. “I couldn’t—not him or anyone else. But I know the circumstantial evidence against me—my threats, the fact that I disappeared the same afternoon he did...” She shook her head. “I can’t help feeling someone is behind this, that it’s a set up.”

  “Where did you go that afternoon?” Kate asked.

  “On a drive. I was so upset; I admit it. Newt can really get under my skin. And he embarrassed me that day—in front of the studio audience, in front of the crew. I was ready to just walk off the set, cancel the show, get out of my contract, the works.”

  Susannah took a bite of her cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “Hmm, these are wonderful, Kate.” She reached for another.

  “Did the sheriff mention other suspects?” Kate asked. “I heard other threats, surely those people came forward.”

  Susannah nodded. “He did say that I wasn’t the only one overheard making threats.”

  “Anyone who works with Newt will tell you that it’s an understatement to say he’s not well liked,” Susannah said. “Anyone could have been involved in his disappearance. But I’m the only person who disappeared at precisely the same time he did.”

  Kate had to ask. “Why did you wash off the mud?”

  Susannah gave her a sharp look. “You noticed?” Then she laughed lightly. “You’ve always been one for details.”

  But she didn’t answer Kate’s question.

  She helped with dishes, thanked them for dinner, and zoomed off in her silver Miata, leaving Kate and Paul standing on the porch, arm in arm, with more questions than they’d had before she arrived.

  Kate turned her attention back to the brownies as she continued musing about the events of the past few days. The chocolate and butter had melted, so she stirred in the dry ingredients.

  Something had been bothering her since she heard about the producer’s disappearance. But she’d been so caught up in her friend’s complicity that she hadn’t dwelt much on the major piece of evidence pointing to foul play: the blood on the SUV’s upholstery.

  And the rumors about Newt being abducted? Why was everyone going in that direction? She stopped stirring, spoon hovering, and thought about it for a minute.

  If it had been an abduction, there had to be a reason for it. What would someone possibly want in exchange for Newt Keller? Might a rival network want him out of the picture temporarily? Or maybe a disgruntled business partner?

  A new thought flitted around the edges of her brain. What if one or more of the Taste Network employees just wanted to enjoy a week without Newt? Maybe they were in cahoots, and it wasn’t foul play at all. But kidnapping was still a crime, punishable by years in prison.

  Her thoughts turned to Susannah and all she stood to lose if she was involved in such a crime. Kate gave the chocolate mixture another stir as she thought about the Hummer and the reddish mud around the wheels of Susannah’s Miata.

  Was it possible the Hummer was still where she had found it? It was a crime scene, and only two days since the SUV had been found. Maybe she could get out to the site before the Hummer was towed away.

  She quickly poured the brownie batter into a buttered pan, then swirled in the cream-cheese mixture. Baking could wait.

  Paul shuffled around the corner in his slippers, tying his robe, just as Kate was heading out the door.

  She gave him a quick good-morning kiss. “Do you think the Hummer might still be by the creek?”

  He blinked in surprise. “You’re heading out there right now?”

  She smiled. “You know me and those ladybugs I get in my bonnet.”

  Paul laughed. “Ladybugs? I thought they were bees.”

  “Mine are a gentler, quieter version. More like ladybugs.”

  He was still grinning when he said, “I’m not sure the Hummer will be there. It may have been towed to an impound garage in Pine Ridge by now. Probably depends on if the crime people are finished with their investigation. You could call the sheriff to find out.”

  “I’ll take a chance,” she said. “I’ve got something I need to check out—something that may have been overlooked.”

  “Those crime scene folks are very thorough...” Then he laughed. “I should know better by now. You have a knack for finding things everyone else misses. Just be careful, Katie.”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  Paul sighed. “Not as careful as I’d like.”

  Kate waved good-bye to Paul as she backed out of the driveway. When she reached the intersection at Smoky Mountain Road and Mountain Laurel, she took a right. Then she took another right onto Smith Street and headed northeast. She turned again when she spotted the dirt road that led to the creek.

  The weather that morning was bright and sunny, not at all like the November weather that had taken Precious McFie’s life.

  Off in the distance, Kate spotted a yellow glint in the morning sun. The Hummer! She pressed on the accelerator.

  She passed a stand of willows, and there before her sat the Hummer. Right next to it was a sheriff’s department black-and-white SUV. Not too far away, a lawn chair had been placed in the shade of a willow tree. A thermos of coffee sat beside it. But there was no sign of the sheriff or his deputy. Only a long strand of police tape strung from a couple of trees in front of the Hummer.

  Kate fished around in her pocket for a pair of pop-up disposable gloves she’d brought along. She normally used them for chopping things like onions and garlic, but they were perfect for crime-scene sleuthing. She pulled on the gloves, then headed over to the Hummer.

  She opened the door on the driver’s side and, squinting, looked for the dried blood.

  The upholstery was a buttery-hued leather, and as she bent closer, the bloodstains she’d heard about were easily visible. It appeared that when the blood was fresh, it had dripped down from about the level of Newt Keller’s neck and along the back of the seat. Another smear shot off to the left as if the body had been pulled out of the vehicle.

  She made a mental note to ask if a DNA test had shown any results. Blood type would be good to know too, especially if Keller’s type was rare.

  Kate next went around to the passenger side and opened the door. She opened the glove box and peered inside, but the gaping space was empty. So was the center console. She reached under the seat and fished around but came up empty there as well.

  She carefully examined the rear seating area, the carpeted floor, the headliner. Nothing unusual.

  She backed out of the rear of the vehicle, stepped back, and reached for the door. Just before she pressed it closed, something caught her eye. Leaning across the passenger seat, she peered into the CD player. Usually, the protective flap was down, fitting snugly in place when the player wasn’t in use. But the flap was propped open. With something small lodged inside the slit. Maybe a pen or pencil...

  She frowned and leaned close enough to reach the player with her right hand. She placed her gloved index finger on one side of the object and her middle finger on the other.

  The object didn’t budge. She rocked it gently back and forth, then tried to pull again. It seemed frozen in place.

  She pulled back her hand and stared at the end of the object, the only visible part. She narrowed her eyes. The object seemed familiar, but she couldn’t figure out where she’d seen something like that before.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” The gruff voice behind her made her start, then bump her head in her hurry to extricate herself from the Hummer.

  “Oh, it’s you, Missus Hanlon,” Skip Spencer said. “But what are you doing here? This is a crime scene, and nobody’s supposed to get near this vehicle. I’m afraid I must ask you to back away from the door.”

  “I just
wanted to have a look for myself. And I think I’ve found something.” She started for the Hummer again.

  “Please, ma’am. You’ll contaminate the crime scene.”

  “Don’t you want to see what I found?”

  “The investigators have been over the vehicle with a fine-tooth comb. I’m sure they found everything they needed.” He looked at his watch. “The tow truck will be here in another few minutes to take the vehicle to the impound garage, so I’ll have to ask you to keep your distance, Missus Hanlon.”

  Kate sighed. “It’s there,” she said, pointing to the CD player. “Can you see how it’s propped open? This may be something important. If you won’t let me investigate, you should at least take a look.”

  Skip sauntered over to the SUV and leaned across the passenger’s seat. “Oh yeah, I do see something.”

  The clock was ticking, and Kate wasn’t about to let the Hummer get away before she was finished. “I’ve got gloves on. Let me pull it out.”

  Skip hesitated, obviously weighing law-enforcement procedure against Kate’s knack for finding new evidence, something he’d seen firsthand.

  “Well, as long as you keep your gloves on, I guess it’ll be all right. Sheriff Roberts assigned me the job of keeping watch over the evidence to make sure no one tampers with it, and I intend to carry out my duties to the best of my ability.”

  Kate was only half listening as she tried to free the object in the player. Then she blinked as the realization hit. Of course she knew what it was. She also knew that if she turned it flat-side down, it would easily slide out of the CD player.

  It did.

  She gingerly held it up for Skip to see.

  “A pocketknife,” he said in awe. “How’d you know it was in there?”

  Kate didn’t answer. She was too busy examining the Swiss Army Knife. It was just like Paul’s, one of the smallest designs made. One of the least obtrusive for a man to carry in his pocket.

  Kate carefully held it up to the sunlight.

  “Do you think that’s the weapon the perpetrators used?” Skip asked.

  “I don’t know, but there’s dried blood on the blade.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kate called Susannah as soon as she arrived home. “Did Newt Keller ever use a pocketknife when you were around him?”

  “Oh yes. He carries it all the time. He’s obsessive about his fingernails. Always trimming and filing. The knife he carries has tiny scissors, a file, and, of course, a couple of blades.”

  “Have you, by chance, ever seen him loan it to someone else?”

  “He would never do that. He’s also got this thing about germs. A bit over the top with that too. He even carries around his own tasting fork; he refuses to use a perfectly clean studio utensil.” She hesitated. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just an angle I’m working on.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes about the next taping, which was scheduled for Monday.

  Just before they said their good-byes, Kate invited Susannah to come to church with her the following day.

  Susannah seemed genuinely pleased and accepted the invitation.

  Paul came in just as Kate hung up the phone.

  “You’re smiling ear to ear...You must be closer to connecting the dots.”

  She laughed. “Actually, I was smiling because Susannah’s coming to Faith Briar tomorrow. She just accepted my invitation.”

  “That’s great. Shall we have her over for lunch after?”

  “Or maybe take her out?”

  “There’s always the Country Diner.”

  “I think she’d like that. She told me her favorite food is a good cheeseburger, with fries and all the fixin’s. The diner has the best around.”

  SUSANNAH CAUSED QUITE A STIR the next morning when she zoomed into the church parking lot in her little Miata. Standing at the entrance, Kate waved, then headed over to greet her friend.

  The previous afternoon, Kate had mentioned to Renee that Susannah would be attending Faith Briar. Renee had quickly gotten together an impromptu welcoming committee of a dozen or so parishioners, who were now standing at the front of the church, smiling at Kate and Susannah as they approached.

  Renee stepped forward as if to formally welcome Susannah. Kisses trotted behind her on his jeweled leash, then sat down and stared up at Susannah. But Renee just stood there, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out.

  For the first time since Kate had known Renee, the woman seemed at a loss for words. She was starstruck.

  Susannah handled the situation with grace. She gathered a startled Renee into a hug, then stood back and beamed at her. “I don’t know if you realize how photogenic you are, but I’ve seen the tapes of my show, and you’re beautiful.”

  Renee tilted her chin upward and patted her hair. “Well, yes. I’ve been told that before.”

  Susannah didn’t miss a beat. She turned to the others who’d attended the tapings and said complimentary things to each.

  “I wish all of you could attend every taping I do. It’s too bad Atlanta is so far away. Wait till you see the real show. Y’all are simply great.”

  They made their way into the church, Kate feeling a bit like the Pied Piper. She escorted Susannah down to the front of the sanctuary, with the welcoming committee following and settling in around them as they sat down.

  Susannah caught Kate’s eye and grinned. It was obvious she loved the enthusiastic reception. It struck Kate then that God was using the welcoming committee to show Susannah how much she was loved and accepted—without judgment, without question. Their love was a reflection of his love; and that day, that morning, it was a gift from his heart to Susannah’s. The funny thing was, they set out to greet her as fans and probably didn’t know how God was using their admiration.

  Kate sat back in awe as Sam played one of her favorite hymns, “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.” God had used the ordinary folks at Faith Briar once again to touch someone’s heart in an extraordinary way.

  “Do you remember the words to this song?” she whispered to Susannah.

  When Susannah turned, Kate saw tears in her eyes.

  Susannah nodded. “I haven’t thought of it in years...‘Let not your heart be troubled, His tender word I hear, and resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears...’”

  Paul’s sermon on taking courage in troubled times couldn’t have been more perfectly suited for Susannah, yet Kate knew he’d been working on it long before he knew she would be attending.

  “When you go through troubled times, consider that you are in training,” Paul said toward the end of the sermon. “Stop for a moment and think about your challenges from a different perspective: consider dealing with adversity as strength training for your spirit, in much the same way lifting weights builds strong bones or jogging aerobically exercises the cardiovascular system.

  “A long-distance runner pushes her body beyond what she thinks she can endure. Yet when she reaches her goal, her months or years of training make her trials worthwhile.”

  Then he stopped and looked out over the congregation. “Though it may be difficult in your present circumstances, rejoice and welcome the challenges ahead. Know that God is with you and will give you strength each step of the way.”

  As Paul read from Isaiah 43, Susannah pulled a small notebook and pen from her purse and jotted down the verses:

  Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up—the flames will not consume you.

  After the service, Susannah gave Kate a hug. “This was the best gift you could have given me.”

  “HALF OF THE TASTE NETWORK IS HERE,” Susannah said as they stepped out of the car in front of the diner. She cast a worried glance at the cars parked on both sides of the street.

  Paul clicked the
locks on the Honda and fell into step with the two women. But before reaching the door, Paul turned and asked, “Would you rather go someplace else? We can, you know.”

  Susannah hesitated, then smiled at them both. “I admit this is the first day I’ve left my room, but I decided this morning I’ll have to face my colleagues sooner or later. It might as well be sooner. Besides, I’m not the only suspect. The sheriff wouldn’t divulge any specifics, but I would bet there are other network people who are as nervous as I am about all this.”

  Back on the job for the coming week, LuAnne met them at the door, all smiles when she saw Susannah, then ushered them to a corner booth. Without asking, she poured three mugs of coffee, then slipped into the booth next to Kate.

  “I want to tell you, honey,” she said to Susannah, “Sumptuous Chocolates is the best thing on the tube. I wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in Chi—” She laughed. “Make that all the cocoa beans in Brazil.”

  “Well, thank you,” Susannah said. She took a sip of coffee, looked startled, and reached for the cream and sugar. The diner’s coffee was sometimes a smidge too strong and bitter.

  “We’ve got a lot of Tasties here today,” LuAnne said, putting on her glasses and looking around the room. “Over there’s that little French gal—what’s her name?”

  “Nicolette Pascal,” Susannah filled in.

  “Oh yes. I wouldn’t tell her so, but of you three, I go for your show. I love that Grits 101 gal—”

  “Birdie Birge,” Susannah filled in again.

  “That’s right, Birdie. Well, now, before I started watchin’ her, I thought it was in the genes to fix ’em right. We Southern gals just instinctively know how to do it, know what I mean? I said to myself, ‘Why should I listen to someone tell me what I already know how to do?’” She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “Then mercy me, I found out that she does know a thing or two about grits. And you can tell her I said so.”

  Susannah smiled. “I think you should tell her yourself.”

  “But...” She paused dramatically. “There’s somethin’ I noticed recently about those two other chefs.”

 

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