Killer Cheesecake Tart

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  With Vera dead, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

  Grabbing the brass door handle, she pushed her way into the room. She could instantly feel a cool breeze brushing across the office, coming from the window right over the small wooden desk.

  At first look, she had a brief flash of disappointment. It was possible that Sarah Ikerson had been up here doing some work and opened the window, so it wouldn’t get so stuffy. Old buildings, especially ones made from solid stone walls, could get quite a stagnant smell if not aired out.

  However, a new passing thought quelled her disappointment in a matter of seconds.

  When Vera had gone marching inside the castle manor, hadn’t her intention been to find Sarah and fire her on the spot? If that was the case, wouldn’t she possibly find Sarah in this office?

  Bert’s mind ran wild with possibilities. What if Sarah lived on the premises like Bert had originally wondered? If the secretary got fired, not only would she be losing a job, but her home as well. That could easily be enough for a motive—at least one done in a passionate frenzy.

  Perhaps a fight had ensued between the women. They struggled and the next thing you knew Vera leaned up against the window and fell out, hitting her head on the way down and drowning in the water.

  Bert walked around the desk and peered down at the busy scene below before turning back to look at the desk space. The room was immaculate. Not a spot of dust or clutter anywhere. In some way, that took away from the possibility that there had been a struggle at all.

  What could that mean, then?

  “Detective, have a look at this,” a voice floated up quietly from down below.

  Inching over toward the window while trying not to be seen, Bert listened in, realizing what an advantage she had by being here. She could eavesdrop without anyone knowing.

  The coroner, a friend of Bert’s as well as a fellow church member, was hunched over the body pointing at the woman’s neck.

  “Finger marks?” Mannor asked.

  “Yes. It looks like someone tried to choke her first.”

  “Making this a definite homicide,” the detective deduced. “So, did she die from strangulation, the bump on the head, or the drowning?”

  “I can’t say for sure until I get the body down to the morgue and do a proper autopsy.”

  “Okay. Good work. Let us just finish up here and I’ll have the body delivered to you by this afternoon at the latest.”

  “Sounds fine,” the coroner said, standing up. For a second, his eyes traveled up to the second story window, forcing Bert to jump back unexpectedly to not be seen.

  In doing so, she nearly tripped over the wastebasket sitting just beside the desk. Luckily, she caught herself by gripping onto a nearby bookshelf before she toppled over and alerted everyone to her amateur sleuthing antics.

  Holding her breath for a second, she let out a sigh of relief.

  Bending down to pick up the dumped contents of the wastebasket, she noticed something odd that stuck out to her. A partially opened gift lay on its side. It had shiny white paper and a pink ribbon that had been undone.

  What was the oddest about it was the fact that the tag had Vera’s name on it, not Sarah? Why was it in the garbage and why in Sarah’s office?

  The sound of footsteps in the hall outside alerted Bert to someone else’s presence in the manor. She quickly stood up, picking up the gift and shoving it into her purse. As soon as she did, the door swung open.

  She was caught.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Caught red-handed, Bert took a step back in surprise. Sarah Ikerson stood in the doorway, a surprised look of her own on her face. Her mouth sat in an O shape for a second while she processed the fact that some random caterer was in the office.

  Bert stood statue still, wondering just what to do next. If Sarah truly had killed her employer, what would she do to Bert having found her snooping in the office? If she wasn’t the killer, then who was?

  Finally, the young woman found her words. “Excuse me. What are you doing up here?”

  Bert opened her mouth to speak, trying to formulate the right words. She could feel her face growing hot and likely turning red. “I hate to admit this, but I was just being a bit of a busybody,” she told the girl truthfully all while playing the part of a silly old lady, going as far as to fretfully wring her hands together.

  In response, Sarah only raised a curious eyebrow as if silently asking for details about what Bert meant.

  Taking the cue, she stepped forward so she was face to face with the woman and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I just had to hear what the police detective was saying about this whole thing, and would you know it, he thinks this is a murder,” she gasped as if totally taken aback by that news herself.

  Sarah didn’t respond, not immediately anyway. Her eyelids fell to slits, almost as if she were trying to read Bert’s face. “You know? I’m not surprised if she was murdered.”

  “You’re not? Wow. I thought you’d be devastated, seeing as you were her personal secretary and all,” Bert pointed out.

  “You’d think,” she groaned, walking past Bert and further into the office. Opening drawers on the desk, she started taking things out and stacking them together. “You’d also think that a woman I’ve worked for over ten years and lived with would have more of a heart than to fire me on the spot for a technicality that was probably her fault.”

  “You lived here with her?” she pressed, interested to hear that her original theory held true.

  “Ever since she hired me on, yes. I was more than a secretary to her. Every waking moment was dedicated to that woman. We did business together, planned events together, ate together. Heck, we even did recreational activities together. You’d think all of that meant something,” she grumbled unhappily, the first signs of emotion showing through.

  For a second, Bert could swear there were tears building up, but they were quickly forced back as Sarah slapped some paperwork together in a pile.

  “So, you’re packing up?” Bert asked.

  “I just finished shoving my clothes into a suitcase. Now, I’m gathering my other things together and leaving.”

  “But Vera Blackwell was just murdered. Doesn’t that mean something?” Bert pressed on, surprised by the young woman’s complete lack of emotion in this situation.

  “If I still thought she cared about me, even a little, it may have been different. However, firing me over the guest list showed me that I was nothing more than another employee—disposable like a tissue to her.”

  Bert clasped her hands, feeling sorry for the poor woman. “That’s hard. I understand. However, why not stick around a little longer to help the police? At least give a statement about what happened.”

  “Look, with her gone, I have even less reason to stay than when I was just fired. I literally have nothing left tying me to the place.” She pulled a briefcase from under the desk and opened it, plopping the papers inside. “If the police need a statement, they can ask for one. Otherwise, I’m out of here.” Closing the case, she latched the clasps and headed for the door. “Also, maybe you should stop snooping around and eavesdropping. The police won’t like it and it isn’t good for business, especially among the ladies in this social circle.”

  Waving a finger at Bert, she disappeared out into the hall and down the stairs.

  * * *

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Shiv asked once Bert came back to the garden.

  “You could say that, but we’ll have to wait until later to discuss it,” she told her employee, trying to hide her purse which held the new-found evidence. While the little package could turn out to be nothing, Bert had a gut feeling that it might just be the key to keeping Claudia from an unnecessary arrest.

  In thinking of Claudia, Bert looked around for the woman. “Where is Claudia?” she asked, realizing she was nowhere nearby.

  “Oh, sorry. I should have told you right away,” Shiv apologiz
ed.

  “Why? What happened?” Bert pressed, feeling an anxious tension building in her chest.

  “The EMTs came back to check her out. Not only was she in shock, like you thought, but it seemed she had bumped her head when she fell into the fountain. They found a knot on her skull and asked where it was from. She couldn’t remember hitting her head.”

  “Oh, dear. That isn’t a very good sign.”

  “The point is, they loaded her into the back of the ambulance and took her to the hospital. They said they would probably keep her there overnight for observation.”

  Bert nodded, worry growing inside of her and quickening her breath. “Okay. Well, at least she isn’t being held at the police station for questions . . . or worse, on suspicion of murder.”

  At this comment, Shiv twisted her lower lip up, chewing on it nervously.

  “What is it Shiv? Is there something else as well?”

  “Detective Mannor sent an escort cop along with them. He’s going to stay outside her hospital room until she is well enough for some proper questioning.”

  Placing her hands on her hips, Bert looked up at the sunny sky with a deep sigh. The warmth coated her face, but it couldn’t keep the chill inside her from growing. “So, he thinks that she did it?”

  “I’d say she’s probably his number one suspect.”

  Bert couldn’t help herself from letting out a tiny growl of frustration. While she knew Harry was just doing his job, he always seemed to go with the most obvious—and easy—answer in these homicide cases. Seeing as he was a career officer with many years on the force, most of those being as a detective, she had no right to judge his procedure and methods. However, she couldn’t help still feeling a little irritated.

  Part of it came from her loyalty to a fellow church member, no matter how rude she’d been on other occasions. The other part was her willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt where possible.

  On the other hand, someone had committed murder at this Mother’s Day party. Not everyone here was without error. Someone was a killer.

  The real issue was whether this was a planned killing or a one of passion.

  “I hate to say it, Bert, but I can’t blame the detective. He’s just taking every precaution. After all, you did find Claudia bent over the body and soaking wet. That could show that she attempted to drown Vera while she struggled.”

  Bert knew it was true. The finger marks on the throat could be yet another indicator that someone had held the victim under the water. Either that or they strangled her first and then threw her in the water afterward. Then, of course, there was the head wound.

  This case was going to prove to be more complicated than Bert preferred.

  “Have they begun interviews?”

  “Yes. I think that was another reason they sent an escort with the ambulance. Many of the ladies overheard Vera asking Claudia to leave. While it wasn’t an all-out fight, in this social circle it could be a serious affront.”

  Bert nodded. “I understand, but Vera has probably insulted countless people, maybe even multiple party guests for all we know. She did have a somewhat abrasive nature about her, even if it was slightly passive aggressive or underhanded in delivery. Not to mention, she fired Sarah, her secretary of ten years.”

  Shiv lifted both eyebrows. “You think she did it?”

  Bert clutched her purse close to her chest. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but I intend to find out.”

  Chapter 8

  * * *

  Bert decided not to bring up the police escort or Harry’s assumptions about the case when she did her interview with him a little later. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t caught wind of her earlier antics in the house. Therefore, she did not show him the gift box she had found. For all she knew, it had nothing to do with the case. The open window as well could mean nothing.

  Vera probably wasn’t pushed out from the second story. She was likely killed out in front of the house, just where they found her.

  Once they got the all clear to go, Bert gathered up the remaining tarts, loaded them into the car, and she and Shiv headed back to Pies and Pages. Parking out front, they brought the leftovers inside.

  “Carla will be happy when she gets back tomorrow. She was very excited to try this rosewater cheesecake,” Bert commented, feeling a bit stuffy in her formal dress.

  “It is the perfect Mother’s Day dessert, I think,” Shiv agreed. “A bit funny though that the party at the Blackwell Estate didn’t have a single child there.”

  “No, just the mothers. According to her secretary, Vera believed a true Mother’s Day didn’t involve children at all. So, all the well-to-do mothers showed up to drink wine, snack on cheese and dessert, and relax the day away without once having to actually think of their children.”

  “Seems a bit off the mark to me,” Shiv thought out loud, taking the empty tart trays to the sink behind the counter.

  “Well, I’d have to agree with you there.” Bert set her purse down on the counter and headed for the staircase to the apartment. “I’m going to change and then I’ll be right back down.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Shiv agreed.

  After slipping out of the dress, baffled by how much time she spent on her looks that morning just to be sent home early, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a turquoise sweater before going back down.

  “I got all the tarts put away and the pans washed,” Shiv announced as Bert stepped into the dining area and picked up her purse.

  “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

  “Hey, you’re paying me for it,” she joked.

  Bert couldn’t help but smile as she took a seat. “Do I smell coffee?”

  “Yep. I just brewed a fresh batch. I thought we might need it after the craziness at the estate today.”

  Bert smiled from ear to ear. A nice hot cup of coffee seemed like the perfect thing. “Tell you what. Pour us a couple mugs and cut two pieces of that cheesecake tart—make sure we get a couple good flowers out of it—then I’ll show you what I found inside the castle manor.”

  “You’re on,” Shiv shot back, grabbing two mugs from the dish cabinet. Filing them with the hot liquid, she topped them off with a bit of cream and a cube of sugar each. She then cut the tart and brought everything over on the tray. “I have to say, I’m excited to finally eat a slice of this.”

  “It’s divine. Trust me,” Bert said, picking up a fork and cutting into the white chocolate rose. Sliding the bite into her mouth, she took a few seconds to savor it before jumping back into the investigation. Taking a sip of the warm coffee to wash the bite down, Bert dusted off her hands and opened her purse. “I found this in the trash in Vera’s secretary’s office,” she announced, setting the package on the table between them.

  “A Mother’s Day gift?” she wondered out loud.

  “I’m not sure, but it would be a good explanation.”

  “Does Vera Blackwell have children?”

  “If I am correct in my tabloid reading, she has a son.”

  Shiv struggled to keep a laugh at bay, the corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. “You read the tabloids?”

  “I take a glance occasionally when I’m in line at the supermarket. Carla actually buys them and reads them cover to cover. If she were here, she could probably provide a much deeper insight than we are seeing even now.”

  Shiv couldn’t keep the chuckle hidden and laughed out loud. “To each their own, I guess.”

  “The point is, he doesn’t live here in town and supposedly hasn’t been back in years.”

  “Okay. Do you think he sent the package?”

  “I don’t know. What is odd to me is that the tag has Vera’s name on it, but I found it in Sarah’s office.”

  “There isn’t a from signature?”

  “Not that I’ve found. So, it could very well be from her son and could also very well be from someone else completely. We can’t know for sure.”
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br />   Shiv raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we can find out. I mean, who sends a present as fancy as that?”

  “It does look professionally wrapped, doesn’t it?” Bert commented, eyeballing the shiny paper.

  “Yeah, just the outside looked expensive. Never mind what was in the box.”

  Bert held up one finger. “That’s just it. There is something inside the box.”

  “There is?”

  “I haven’t actually looked myself, but it has a certain weight to it.” She picked up the box and shook it slightly.

  Shiv drew her chair in eagerly to the edge of the table. “So? What are we waiting for? Open it. Maybe there is a note inside who says where it came from?”

  Bert raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to go snooping where you didn’t belong? Weren’t you scolding me for getting involved back at the estate?”

  Shiv waved a hand. “Oh, forget what I said. You already stole this and it’s here, so what difference does it make?”

  “I didn’t steal it. It was in the trash, so somebody didn’t want it.”

  “Whatever makes you feel good,” Shiv prodded playfully. “Now, open it before I go crazy.”

  Smiling Bert popped open the top of the box. Both women leaned in to look inside.

  “What is it?” Shiv asked, squinting to try and make out the gray blob.

  Reaching in, Bert retrieved the two halves of the clay train. “A sculpture?”

  “It looks like a child’s art class project,” Shiv commentated.

  “That it does,” Bert agreed, examining the small indentations from tiny fingers that had shaped the train car. A slightly smushed smokestack came up from the top.

  “Does Vera have any grandchildren?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea, but it seems unlikely.”

  “Unless her son fathered a child without knowing it and this was someone’s attempt to reach out to their grandmother.”

  Bert twisted her lips to one side in thought. “Yes, that’s possible, but a little bit of a stretch when it comes to deduction work.”