Killer Sweet Tooth

by Gayle Trent

  “And, as you said, they treat each other well. That’s the main thing.”

  She smiled. “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “How are Guinevere and her companions?” I asked.

  “They’re doing well.” She reached into her small shopping bag and took out some paper nut cups she’d bought at the bakery supply and party shop. “I bought them these for their snacks. Hilda usually puts their snacks in small glass bowls in their bedrooms, but I thought it would be nice to put some in their sitting room.”

  “How thoughtful!”

  “Thank you. I thought it was a clever idea,” she said. “You see, they can be in there playing and happen upon a cup of treats.”

  “And they’ll be delighted.” I beamed, wondering to myself if guinea pigs experience delight. Probably. Besides, if it pleases your best-paying customer, it’s thoughtful, delightful, marvelous, and downright skippy.

  Belinda dropped the nut cups back into her bag. “I’d better let you get your shopping done. Are you working on something fabulous?”

  “I hope it’s going to be,” I said. “I’m making a quinceañera cake.”

  “A quinceañera cake. You will take pictures and post them on your site, won’t you?” she asked.

  “Of course.” I could almost see the wheels in Belinda’s head turning as she wondered what type of cake would be appropriate for Guinevere’s quinceañera. I was almost positive guinea pigs didn’t live to be fifteen, but I wouldn’t have told Belinda that for half the gold in Fort Knox.

  “By the way, who’s having a quinceañera?” she asked.

  “Juanita Ramirez’s sister, Isabel,” I said.

  “Juanita from the Save-A-Buck?” Belinda asked.

  I nodded.

  “Oh, that’s nice. For Isabel, I mean,” said Belinda. “It must be rather hard on Juanita, though.”

  “It doesn’t seem to be,” I said. “She’s the one planning the party.”

  Belinda looked confused for a moment and then said, “How . . . sweet.”

  “I think so too.”

  “She didn’t get to have a quinceañera, you know,” Belinda said. “She disgraced the family or something just before she was to have her party.” She shook her head. “Pity, too. She appears to be a very nice girl.”

  “She is nice,” I said. “What did she do that was so bad?”

  “I’m not sure, but I believe it had something to do with a guy.” Belinda laughed. “Doesn’t it always?”

  CHAPTER

  Fifteen

  AS SOON as I got home from the bakery supply shop, I called China and Myra using my phone’s three-way conference feature. Myra and I needed to separate fact from fiction with regard to all the gossip we’d been hearing, and I figured China was the perfect candidate to help us do that. Both women agreed to come over to my house right away. Myra said we’d have to make it quick because she had plans with John later.

  Before they arrived, I quickly dusted and vacuumed the living room. I put the teakettle on the stove and set some mixed nuts and some truffles on the coffee table. Being just next door, Myra arrived first. She deposited her loafers by the kitchen door and padded into the living room.

  “What did you think of Jill?” she asked, curling up in the club chair.

  “She wasn’t anything like I thought she’d be,” I said.

  “She threw me for a loop too.” Myra shook her head slowly. “I thought she’d be either young, cute, and giggly or else elegant, smart, and sensual. She was none of the above. In fact, it’d be safer to say she was as ugly as homemade soap and as dreary as old gym socks.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. But after meeting Jill, I started to wonder about all of those affairs.” The teakettle whistled. “Be right back.” I hurried to the kitchen, took the kettle off the stove, and poured the boiling water over white tea bags I’d placed into the teapot. I put the pot, matching teacups, napkins, spoons, and sweeteners on a serving tray and carried it back into the living room.

  “What did you say you started wondering about?” Myra asked.

  I sat the tray onto the table. “It made me wonder if Dr. Bainsworth was being threatened in some way, if maybe he was carrying on with these other women to downplay his love for his wife.”

  Before Myra could react to that, China arrived. She and I sat on the sofa, and while I poured the tea, Myra filled China in on our meeting Jill and my latest theory that Dr. Bainsworth had been “forced” into his numerous affairs.

  China frowned at me. “How’d you come up with that one?”

  I explained about the conversation about Nuevo Laredo I’d had with Scottie. “If Dr. Bainsworth did cross paths with a drug dealer, maybe Dr. Bainsworth double-crossed him or something and the drug dealer threatened his wife.”

  “So to counteract that, Dr. Bainsworth cheated on his wife in order to make it appear he didn’t care what happened to her?” China asked.

  “Precisely.” I smiled triumphantly. “I mean, Angela’s picture was still on his desk when we were there yesterday. He wouldn’t keep out a photo of a wife he despised.”

  “Good try,” China said, “but Dr. Bainsworth was cheating on his wife long before he went to Mexico. Remember? She found out. That’s why she divorced him.”

  “But what if he’d had the run-in with the drug dealer before he went to Mexico?” I asked. “Isn’t that possible? I mean, maybe that’s why he went there.”

  Myra sighed. “After everything you’ve been through with your ex-husband, Daphne, you’re still determined to find some good in Dr. Bainsworth?”

  I shrugged. “I was surprised to see the picture still there, that’s all. Todd didn’t keep a photo of me on his desk when we were married. I thought Dr. Bainsworth had to have loved Angela to have her face sitting there on his desk where he’d see it every day.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t make one iota of sense to me. He was cheating on her. She was cheating on him. And yet, he had her picture on his desk. On top of that, he was using the photo to hide a hotel key card. I just don’t get it.”

  “Nobody said he didn’t love his wife,” China said. “Some men think they can love their wives and everyone else’s to boot.”

  “Wait a second,” Myra said. “She was cheating on him? Did she tell you that?”

  “No,” I said, “Bunni did. And while Dr. Bainsworth’s private investigator didn’t confirm that fact, he didn’t deny it. Bunni thinks Angela killed Dr. Bainsworth to keep him from exposing her affair in divorce court.”

  “I don’t buy that,” said China. “Angela was doing fine financially. I don’t see her risking life in prison or the death penalty just to get a bigger slice of the pie.”

  “You’re probably right.” Myra plucked a truffle off the tray. “Even if Angela only wound up with half of Dr. Bainsworth’s property and no alimony, she’d be fine. She has a good job. I think she’s trying to move on with her life.”

  “That’s what Violet seems to think too,” I said. “And in my conversations with Angela, she doesn’t seem terribly bitter or vindictive. I don’t think she killed Dr. Bainsworth either. But what’s up with that key card?”

  “It’s either his from an illicit affair he was having,” China said, “or it could be proof of one of Angela’s.”

  “How could a blank key card be proof of an affair?” Myra asked.

  “It could prove she was at a particular hotel.” China looked at me. “What hotel name was on the card?”

  “There wasn’t one. It just had a picture of a little redbird.”

  “It must be a logo,” China said. “Did you run it through a search engine?”

  “Not yet, but I will,” I said.

  “Don’t forget, we still have our Elvis running into the Sunoco with his bloody sleeve,” Myra said, popping the truffle into her mouth.

  “And, as much as I hate the possibility, I think we need to consider Juanita a suspect,” I said. “I ran into Belinda Fremont in Bristol earlier today. I told her about the quinc
eañera cake, and she mentioned that the reason Juanita didn’t get to have a quinceañera was because she somehow disgraced her family over some guy. I know whatever happened was several years ago, but it could suggest a pattern of dating losers. Plus, her current boyfriend is an Elvis.”

  “Not too skinny, and not too fat,” Myra said.

  “I know what Belinda is talking about.” China took a sip of her tea and then sat the cup and saucer on the coffee table. “Before she came to the United States, Juanita was courted by a man who promised her the moon and the stars. Even better, though, he promised to bring her family into the U.S., get them legalized, and marry Juanita.”

  “Did he renege on his promises?” I asked.

  “No. He did everything he said he’d do,” China said. “He and Juanita were to be married in a church in South Carolina, and the following weekend Juanita was to have her quinceañera.”

  My jaw dropped. “She was just fourteen when this marriage was to take place?”

  “No, she’d turned fifteen already. But her groom was in a hurry to get married and told her he’d throw her the grandest quinceañera ever after their honeymoon.” China picked up her teacup and took another sip.

  “How could a fifteen-year-old get married?” Myra asked. “Ain’t that illegal?”

  “Not in the state of Mississippi if you have a notarized statement of parental consent,” China said.

  “So, basically, Juanita’s parents were willing to sell her in order to have a better life,” I said.

  “Apparently, they thought they were doing what was best for all of them,” China said.

  “Did she love the man?” Myra asked.

  “I couldn’t say,” China said. “But I do know Juanita stopped the wedding when the man’s other girlfriends showed up.”

  “Girlfriends?” I asked. “Plural?”

  “Yep,” China said. “All three of them.”

  “Wasn’t that convenient?” I mused.

  I PUT THE finishing touches on the quinceañera cakes. All I had to do now was deliver them to the party on Saturday and set up the cakes. I gave Juanita a call and left a message asking her to come by when she could to see what she thought. I then boxed up the cakes and put them in the refrigerator.

  I went into my office to check my e-mail and see how much traffic my website was getting. My home page loaded. Fifteen new e-mails. All junk. Site traffic was down.

  I pulled up the photographs Myra had taken. The pictures of the jewelry photos were a little blurry, but I was able to crop and enlarge them and then print them out. Some of the pieces looked like heirlooms. Either that or they were really excellent fakes. But I didn’t know why anyone would take pictures of fakes. Actually, other than for insurance purposes, I didn’t know why anyone would take pictures of jewelry at all. Unless Dr. Bainsworth had been planning to sell it.

  I took Ben’s suggestion and checked the online classifieds of the Brea Ridge Chronicle. None of the jewelry listed matched any of the pieces in the photographs found in Dr. Bainsworth’s office. I then looked through the classified jewelry ads in newspapers from the surrounding area, but those searches didn’t produce any matches either. There was not even anything similar in the ads.

  As I turned my attention fully back to the photos of Dr. Bainsworth’s jewelry, the thought of insurance reoccurred to me, but this time with a different meaning. Maybe Dr. Bainsworth had taken pictures of the jewelry for insurance purposes. Maybe he had smuggled the jewelry out of Nuevo Laredo, and he’d taken the photographs for insurance against the thief.

  I then did a search for redbird hotel key cards. The search turned up several Redbird Hotel locations, one of which was Nuevo Laredo.

  The doorbell rang. I got up from my computer and went down the hall to the living room. I looked out the front window and saw that my visitor was Juanita.

  “Hi,” I said, opening the door.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I came on over,” she said. “I got your message as I was getting off work and thought I’d see if this is a good time. If it isn’t, I can come back later or tomorrow.”

  “No, this is a great time.” I led her through the living room and into the kitchen. “I went and got the rest of the things I needed for the quinceañera cakes today. Let me set it up for you so you’ll know how it’s going to look on Saturday.”

  I cleared the place mats off the kitchen table and placed the fountain in the center. I got out the main cakes and constructed them over the top of the fountain. I then set up the side cakes with the staircases leading to the main cake.

  “What do you think?” I asked. “Of course, I’ll put the damas on the staircases on Saturday, and I’ll put this tiara on the top tier.”

  Juanita didn’t say anything, so I turned to look at her. Her eyes were glistening with tears.

  “Is it all right?” I asked.

  “It is magnificent.” She blinked rapidly, causing the tears to spill down her face.

  I grabbed a napkin off the island and handed it to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just even better than I had imagined it would be. It is perfect. Isabel will love it.”

  “Maybe—in a way—it can be your quinceañera cake too,” I said quietly. “Since you didn’t get to have one, I mean.”

  Juanita smiled sadly but didn’t comment.

  “While you’re here, may I ask you a question?” I asked.

  “I guess so.” She looked hesitant.

  “You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to,” I said, “but why did you leave Dr. Bainsworth and go to Dr. Farmer?”

  She looked down at the floor.

  “Was it because Dr. Bainsworth acted inappropriately toward you?” I asked. “I’m asking because it’s my understanding he behaved badly toward several of his female patients and staff members.”

  Juanita raised her eyes. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. Every time I had to go there, he pushed his luck a little further. When I protested, he acted like I was being childish. So I switched to the other dentist.” She lowered her eyes again. “I know I probably deserved his treatment, but I did not appreciate it.”

  I pulled out a kitchen chair and invited Juanita to sit down. She did, and I sat in the chair to her right. “Why would you think you deserved to be treated disrespectfully?”

  She didn’t answer right away, so I tried to fill in the blank.

  “Is it because you’re so pretty?” I asked. “You expect men to give you a lot of attention?”

  She shook her head. “It is because of how I came to be in this country. I was to be married to a rich American businessman. But then I found out he had other fiancées—or girlfriends—and I refused to marry him.” Her lips turned down at the corners, and she had to take a steadying breath before she continued. “This man had already taken care of the paperwork for my family and me to come to America and not get in trouble, so he said my family owed him a lot of money. They paid this money—it took my quinceañera money and all the money they could borrow from relatives—but I disgraced the entire family.”

  “Juanita, you didn’t disgrace your family! That horrible man did!”

  She cocked her head. “I should have been more careful.”

  “But you were only fifteen years old,” I said. “If anyone should have been more careful, it’s your parents.”

  “So you had already heard the story?” she asked.

  I bit my lip. “Just this afternoon. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded. “It’s common knowledge to many of the people around here, especially those who frequent the Save-A-Buck. That is why I have a bad reputation.”

  “You don’t have a bad reputation,” I said. “The person who told me about the man who wronged you felt badly for you. You were put in a terrible situation. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “Thank you, but I cost my family a lot of money,” she said. “I am still paying them back.”

  Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. �
��Juanita, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  Juanita placed her small hand over mine. “Now look. I have gone and made you sad. I never meant to do that. The reason I left your house so quickly yesterday is because I thought I saw him here.”

  “You thought you saw who here?” I asked.

  “The man who caused me to disgrace my family.”

  My eyes widened. “He was here? He’s one of the EIEIO members?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “Which one?”

  “His name is George,” she said. “But he sometimes goes by Jorge.”

  “I don’t remember a George or a Jorge,” I said, wracking my brain to try to remember the names of all the men who were there yesterday. “Tomorrow night at the party, will you come with me and identify the man?”

  She shook her head. “No . . . I do not believe I could do that. It would be very difficult. I’ve already told Aaron, and we’re not going.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “That man caused such a rift between my parents and me.”

  “But, Juanita, that wasn’t your fault. You were a child.”

  “I wasn’t after that. I had to get a job and start paying my family back for the money I had cost them.” She closed her eyes momentarily. “If you cannot find this man on your own, then I will help. Otherwise, I would prefer not to be involved. Besides, I’m not even sure it was him. It could have been someone who merely resembles him. People can change a great deal over the years.”

  “That’s true.” A thought occurred to me. “You said you had to get a job and pay your parents back. Are your parents paying for this cake, or are they making you pay for it?”

  “I am paying for half, and they are paying the other half. My half is going toward the amount I owe to them,” Juanita said. “It is a generous thing they are doing for both me and Isabel. My mother and I did not have to try to make the cake ourselves, half the money for the cake will be credited to my debt, and Isabel will have a lovely cake. You see?”