Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1)

by Jenna St James

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  Paige and I watched Dr. Powell make his way down the street, waving at people that called out to him. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the strange conversation we’d just had, other than to say trying to find something nice to say about Dr. Garver was an awkward experience for everyone.

  Paige dropped me off at Dairy Queen. I hopped in the Civic and drove over to the office. I knew Hank was going to be pissed that I didn’t get more than I did, but I couldn’t make people say what I wanted them to say. I parked and walked inside.

  “Well, what the hell did you get?”

  “Nothing. No one wants to talk about their feelings…they want to talk about Vera. All I got was hounded about the crime scene.”

  Hank narrowed his eyes at me. “How was the crime scene? And don’t give me some political bullshit about how you can’t talk about it. I’m your boss. You tell me everything.”

  I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “You know I’m not telling you anything I shouldn’t. I’ll have something in half an hour.” I turned and walked toward Mindy, my safety net.

  “Honey, you want some tea before you start? Might help you relax and think.”

  God I loved this woman.

  Now that I’d had a few more hours to really think about what had happened, it didn’t take me long to plunk out a story about Vera Garver’s death and throw in my one lame quote from the salon.

  I came up for air around lunch. Mindy made us a sandwich with chips while I put the finishing touches on the story. I hit send on the e-mail as I finished my sandwich.

  “I heard they weren’t going to have a funeral but a memorial service instead,” Mindy said as she munched on her chips.

  “I heard the same thing this morning at the salon.”

  “Wonder why that is?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Weird.”

  Hank came out of the room waving my submitted story. “It’ll do.”

  Knowing this week’s paper would need to have a different layout, what with all the write-ups on the incident, another piece for reactions, another for the covering of the memorial service, and then the rest of the weekly news, Hank and I worked tirelessly for the rest of the afternoon.

  At two-thirty I made the announcement I had to get going. Hank was pretty good about letting me make my own hours as long as I met my deadlines.

  “What’s going on?” Mindy asked.

  I didn’t know if I should tell her. After all, she’s my friend, but she’s also my boss’s wife. What do I say? That I’m going home to shave my legs because I may or may not fool around with a hot guy tonight.

  “I’m going to Matt’s tonight for dinner. I wanted to stop by the store so I can bake a dessert.”

  Hank snorted. “One death this week isn’t enough?”

  “Bite me.”

  Mindy laughed. “So just the three of you?”

  I stared at her. How does she do that? Like she knows I’m hiding something. “No, Garrett is picking me up. We’re going together.”

  Mindy squealed. “Oh, my gosh…you know what this means, right?”

  “It means she’s probably gonna go and get herself knocked up,” Hank growled, shoving an unlit cigar into his mouth and stalking back to his office.

  Flipping him the bird I yelled at his retreating backside, “Piss off, Hank. It’s just dinner.”

  Chapter 3

  I drove to the grocery store and picked up the ingredients Mom’s recipe called for before driving home. I’d read over the recipe a few times, so I was pretty sure I had everything down pat. There were a few things I wasn’t sure about, but I figured I could wing it. After all, it’s a chocolate cake with whip cream filling wrapped up like a huge Ho Ho. How hard could it be? And, yes, I was purposely going for the subliminal message.

  The air was crisp and smelled of rain as I gathered the groceries from my trunk and headed inside the house. I knew Matt was going crazy over the fact it was less than ten days until Halloween, and I hadn’t even started to decorate the cottage. He loved making a big deal out of every holiday, but I always seem to wait until the last minute to do anything. I shut the front door with my hip and greeted Miss Molly.

  After putting the groceries away, I made a list of things I wanted to get done before I started on the dessert. Bubble bath, shave all necessary body parts, and then work on my hair and makeup. This way when I finished the dessert all that would be left would be to shimmy into my black skinny jeans and sweater. Seemed simple enough. The dessert should only take about an hour to prepare and bake.

  Opening a bottle of Cabernet, I carried my wine glass and cell phone into the bathroom. I absolutely loved my bathtub. Matt surprised me and remodeled the bathroom before I moved in. He put in the most amazing claw-foot tub for authenticity.

  Pouring the vanilla-lavender scent into the running water, I sat on the edge of the claw-foot tub, lit some vanilla candles, and sip on wine while the tub filled. Opening the Pandora app on my phone, I chose the station I wanted and slipped into the warm water.

  The ringing of my cell phone jolted me awake. I knew from the ringtone it was Paige. Wiping my hands on the hand towel beside the tub, I decided to put her on speaker so I didn’t accidentally drop the phone in the water.

  “So tell me again what you’re bringing tonight?” That was Paige, straight to the point.

  “It’s a chocolate roll with a whip cream center. Kinda like a huge Ho Ho.”

  “Could you be more obvious, Ryli?” Paige laughed.

  “I’m getting ready to go start it now,” I said, ignoring her question. “I figure I have plenty of time, but just in case I need to improvise I’ll start early.”

  “Um…will you be insulted if I make a little dessert too?” Paige quickly added, “You know, just in case? I promise not to bring it out if yours is good.” I could tell by her voice she really wanted me to say it was okay.

  “That’s fine. I mean, you won’t need to, but I understand.” Not really, but what the hell. I’d let them eat their words soon enough.

  I finished shaving and then stepped out of the tub. I slathered on my favorite body lotion and wrapped myself in a short, red bathrobe. The satin robe felt empowering as I tied off the belt. Smelling good, feeling sassy, this diva was ready to tackle the dessert.

  Two glasses of wine later, I realized I may have been a little too optimistic. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. All you had to do was add egg whites and tartar and then beat until stiff peaks formed. Then you add all the ingredients together and bake.

  Glancing at my watch I noticed I only had an hour before Garrett was due, and I had yet to fix my hair and get dressed. Running into my bedroom I turned on my curling iron and started pulling clothes from my closet, trying to find my red clingy sweater and black skinny jeans. By now I figured I’d need all the help I could get. If I couldn’t knock his socks off with my baking, maybe I could knock them off with my sexiness.

  Oh, God, I'm in trouble!

  Thirty minutes later my hair was curled, my black jeans were skintight, and my sweater was pushed up and clinging in just the right spots. I zipped up my knee-high black boots over my jeans and did a little twirl and shimmy in the mirror, just to make sure everything was in place.

  Feeling more confident, I walked back into the kitchen ready to kick this cake’s ass. Tying an apron around my waist, I once again went back to the recipe. If I could get it mixed together real quick, I could slap it in the oven with plenty of time to bake. While it was baking I could whip up the filling. We didn’t have to be at Matt’s house until seven, so I was still making good progress.

  Dumping everything into the garbage can, I started over. I separated more eggs and prayed the peaks would get stiff this time. I carefully measured out the tartar, dumped it into the metal bowl, and turned on the KitchenAid mixer my mom bought me as a housewarming gift.

  Please, let this work!

  As I was pouring the
last of the wine into my glass, the doorbell rang.

  I kept the mixer running in hopes the mixture would stiffen shortly. Carrying my glass with me—added security—I paused at the front door to alternately wipe off my clammy hands on the apron. Plastering a confident smile on my face, I opened the door.

  * * *

  You know those moments when you’re pretty sure time has slowed down and yet things are continually going on around you at what seems like warp speed? That’s what it was for me. Just the sight of him in dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt had me salivating. The color of his shirt was almost a perfect match for his icy, blue eyes. I realized he was devouring me in the same way, and I suddenly wished I would’ve taken off my apron.

  “You look sexy as hell in that apron, Sin.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, turned on by the compliment but pissed at the nickname.

  “I’m just finishing up the filling.” Okay, little white lie, but who’s keeping track.

  He gave me a peck on the cheek then walked toward the kitchen.

  “What the hell?” Garrett was peering into the mixing bowl, his brow furrowed.

  “It just needs to set up a little,” I assured him.

  A wicked grin spread across his face as he stared at me. “I don’t think so, Sin.” He reached up to turn off the mixer.

  “Hey, it’s not quite done!”

  “What the hell are these green floaty things?” Realization hit, and the emotions on his face ranging from horror to amusement back to horror made me feel ridiculous. I wasn’t sure what I had missed, but it must have been a doozie.

  “Sin, what’s in this bowl?” he asked.

  “Egg whites and tartar.”

  “I thought so,” Garrett said. “Please tell me you know there’s a difference between tartar sauce and cream of tartar.”

  There was?

  “Oh, my God, you put tartar sauce in here? Oh, fuck, that’s priceless!” He leaned over the counter, holding his side. I could see his shoulders shaking. I knew there was a problem, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

  “What?” I said as I went to stand next to him. “Okay, I obviously know I messed up, but what exactly did I do wrong?”

  He must have heard the hurt in my voice because he lifted his head then stood back up. “Oh, babe, you know tartar sauce is what you put on fish, not in desserts, right?”

  I could feel my face burning. Of course there would be a difference, but I’d never heard of cream of tartar. Mom’s recipe just said to add six egg whites to one-eighth teaspoon of tartar. There were no specifications about what kind of tartar.

  I thought tartar was tartar.

  Tears stung my eyes, and I tried to blink them back. I would not cry in front of Garrett, especially after he just finished laughing at me.

  Reaching up, Garrett brushed his thumb over my cheek. “Hey, don’t worry. We have plenty of time before we need to leave. We can whip something up.” He looked at the ingredients I had sitting out. “Do you have vinegar?”

  “Vinegar? Why?”

  “Because I’m fairly certain you don’t have buttermilk, but if you have vinegar I can make buttermilk. I make the best chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted, and it only takes thirty-five minutes to bake. By the time we assemble and bake, we should be right at an hour. We’ll still be on time, and no one will be the wiser.”

  I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he was going to do this for me. “Do you need a recipe?”

  “Nope. I make this one all the time, trust me.”

  Hardass Kimble bakes…who knew?

  The only other person that would know I didn’t bring what I had originally intended to bring would be Paige, and she wouldn’t say anything. Now, if Matt knew, I'd never live it down.

  Grinning, I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, “Deal!”

  “We do have a few minutes to spare if—” I ducked under his arms as he tried to pull me closer.

  “We don’t have much time. We can hanky-panky later.”

  Garrett laughed as he poured the tartar sauce goop down the drain. “Hanky-panky? Really, Sin, who says that?”

  Because he was helping me, I let the nickname slide.

  We worked silently for a few minutes, Garrett assembling the ingredients while I cleaned up after him. “What were you trying to make?”

  I bit my lip. I knew if I said a giant Ho Ho he would just poke fun at me. Especially since it didn’t work. I fumbled around, unsure of how to answer.

  “I don’t know. Like a chocolate roll or something,” I mumbled.

  Garrett stopped pouring the batter into the pan. The twinkle in his eye told me I was caught. “A chocolate roll? You mean one of those cakes that looks like a giant Ho Ho?”

  I didn’t say anything. Instead, I grabbed my wine glass and gulped down the last of the wine. It didn’t help, I could still feel the heat radiating off my face.

  “This has about thirty minutes to bake. Then it needs time to cool so I can dust some powdered sugar over the top.” He reached over and took my empty wine glass out of my hand and set it on the counter. As he leaned in toward me, my mind went blank and I felt my body getting all tingly. The sudden ringing of his cell phone jarred me back into reality.

  “Sorry, but I’m expecting a call back from the lab about evidence we bagged.” Sliding his finger across the phone, he turned his back to me. “This is Kimble.”

  I’m not ashamed to say I openly eavesdropped. What else did I have to do? Unfortunately, Garrett was being tight lipped and only giving one-syllable answers followed by occasional grunts. This left me lots of time to gawk at his butt in the jeans he was wearing.

  Not good, now I wanted to get my hands on his ass.

  I was saved from those dangerous thoughts when he suddenly hung up and turned back to me. Something in my face must have given me away, because the lusty grin on his face had me backing up a step. “What was that about?” I asked, looking for a way to escape.

  “Nothing,” Garrett replied as he reached for me again.

  “Nothing? It didn’t sound like nothing. Did the lab techs find something?”

  Garrett narrowed his eyes at me. “Didn’t I tell you yesterday to back off meddling in this case?”

  “I’m not meddling, I’m just being a curious citizen of this town.”

  “Don’t push your luck with me, Sin. I have enough to worry about right now without worrying about your safety. I swear, I find out you are poking around where you don’t belong, I’ll haul your cute little ass to jail.”

  On the one hand I was totally pissed he thought I was useless…but on the other hand, he did say I had a cute ass.

  “Jeez, don't worry, I'm not going to do anything that will make your life crazy,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back.

  Garrett snorted. “Right. I need to call Officer Ryan real quick and discuss something. Can I use your bedroom for privacy?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew what he was saying...he wanted a place where I couldn't overhear.

  I waved my hand toward the hallway. “It's back there...I'm sure you can find it.”

  Grinning, he turned and sauntered down the hallway, oblivious of the evil eye I was giving him.

  I reached down to pick up my wine glass, only to realize it was empty...as was the bottle. Sighing, I went and sat down on the couch and waited for the cake to finish baking.

  * * *

  “Why are you here on time?” Paige whispered to me as I handed her the cake.

  “What do you mean?” I honestly didn’t catch on until she gave me the “knowing” look combined with the wiggling eyebrows. The fact she was looking at my crotch didn’t hurt, either.

  “Whose car is that in the drive?” I said, hoping to distract her.

  It worked. “Since there’s no football game this week, Nick stopped by.

  I really liked Nick Turner. He moved to Granville about two years ago when he took a teaching and coaching position at the high school.
He teaches high school history and coaches football and wrestling.

  “I wonder if he’s heard anything new about the murder?” I whispered so Garrett wouldn’t hear me and give me another lecture.

  Following Paige into the kitchen, I waived at my brother and Nick. Garrett went around me, but not before tugging surreptitiously on the back of my hair. I countered it by picking up the open wine bottle on the counter and pouring me a small glass.

  Hey, if I was going to survive this night, I was going to need more booze, no doubt about it.

  I helped Paige prepare the salad, neither one of us talking much since the guys were within earshot. Which was fine by me…left me more chances to watch Garrett interact with others. Usually when I saw him it was in a more formal capacity…or more standoffish toward me since he and Matt are friends, and I’m Matt’s little sister. This was the first time we’d all gotten together under the guise of me being more than just Matt’s sister. Just as I figured, he didn’t seem near as nervous as I was.

  “We’re just about to put the steaks on,” my brother said as he led the men outside.

  “Okay, dish,” Paige said once we were alone.

  I pretended to take another drink so I could have some time to think about what to say. I was still processing it myself. I wasn’t sure how to explain it to her. “Not much to tell. He came over, we baked a cake.”

  “He came an hour early, and you’re telling me you guys only baked a cake?”

  “Yep.”

  Clucking her tongue in sympathy, Paige took a closer look at the cake. “What happened to the Ho Ho thing?”

  “Didn’t work out,” was all I said. Paige being the good friend she was didn’t say a word.

  Dinner was a delicious meal of salad, grilled veggies, steaks, and the chocolate cake I brought. Plus more wine for Paige and me and beer for the boys.

  “So, anything new you can share with us about Dr. Garver?” Matt asked suddenly when the previous conversation and laughter had died down.