Weddings & Wine Cake_A Culinary Cozy Mystery

by Nancy McGovern

  When she walked out of her house, she had a vague idea that she’d go to the beach, maybe just submerge herself in the cool waters, let her troubles leak out of her and dissolve in the ocean. Instead, she found herself turning her back to the sea and heading towards the big house. Her feet seemed to know where to take her even when her head was clouded. In the distance, she could see a police boat at the dock. They were here. And soon, perhaps, they’d take her father away. A day ago, Rachel had been willing to sacrifice almost anything to see her mother released. Now, she wondered if this was how a deal with the devil felt. Her father’s freedom in exchange for her mother’s release.

  Her feet carried her on, into the big house. She found herself in the kitchen, standing with the fridge door open, staring blankly at the shelves of food.

  “Hungry?” a voice asked from behind her.

  Rachel swung around to see Abuelita sitting on a chair, prayer beads in hand. Her face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were bright and clear.

  “I’m not hungry,” Rachel said, shutting the door. “I just… I had to do something. My father doesn’t want to see me, and I don’t know if I can bear to see him. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you believe him?” Abuelita asked.

  “I…I want to,” Rachel said. She shook her head. “I haven’t been close to my father in some time. Work always got in the way. His and mine, both. When I came here, I thought…I don’t know what I thought. Truth is, I came here to protect him because I didn’t trust Valentina. I couldn’t even have imagined what would happen next.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Abuelita said. “Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know,” Rachel said. “He’s my father. But he’s also a stranger to me, now. So obsessed with money, so fierce about his work. Scott, my boyfriend, thinks my father did it. I can tell. And I trust Scott’s judgement. He’s very rarely wrong. This time, I so desperately want him to be.”

  “You still aren’t answering me,” Abuelita said, snapping her fingers. “Yes or no? Did your father do it?”

  “I…don’t…know!” Rachel waved her hands in frustration. “The evidence points to him. He had the motive. He’s… different now. He has no alibi. He could have done it. I know that.”

  “But what does your heart say?”

  “What does it matter what my heart says? Murders are solved using the head.” Rachel ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Abuelita. I know how hard this must be for you. Your son is in the hospital and yet you’re comforting me.”

  “My son will be unharmed,” Abuelita said, her voice calm and unruffled. “You know how I know that?”

  “How?”

  “My heart says it.” Abuelita smiled. “It’s never been wrong before. When my mother was in the hospital to replace a kidney, I wasn’t worried at all. I knew it was dangerous, but I knew she’d survive. When my father started coughing at 73 years of age, I took a four hour flight to see him. I knew I might not have the chance again — and I turned out to be right.”

  “Are you a little bit psychic?” Rachel smiled.

  Abuelita shook her head. “It’s not that, chica. The heart sees what the mind does not. Your mind focuses on the obvious details — the surgery, the cough — and either dismisses it or gives it importance. But your heart sees more truly. It sees things your mind ignores — like the fact that, even though my mother was going to surgery, she looked strong, and had a team of people ready to help her. Like the fact that even though it was only a cough, my father had been looking pale and thin for a while, and he’d never looked that way before. I only put it together later on, when I had years to think about it. But my heart — or my instinct — knew. Instantly.”

  Rachel stared at her, mouth open.

  “You have that power, too,” Abuelita said. “So tell me. What is it that you know? Did he do it?”

  “No.” Rachel’s voice was bold, confident. “My father didn’t kill Leon.” As she said the words out loud, a great weight seemed to shift off her shoulders, and her mind seemed to clear. Of course he hadn’t killed anyone. How could she have thought so, even for a second?

  “Valentina thinks he’s innocent, too,” Abuelita said. “I trust my granddaughter. There’s something going on in this island. An evil lurking just beyond our eyesight. We have to catch it, to neuter it for good. I’ll need your help.”

  “I’ll do anything I can to save my father,” Rachel said. She blinked away sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me faith in him. And myself.”

  Abuelita bit her lip. “I only pray it’s not false hope.”

  “I know what I have to do,” Rachel said, “What I should have done right at the start — talk to people.” With a sudden movement, Rachel bent down and hugged Abuelita hard.

  “It’s going to be alright,” she said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Abuelita touched her cheek gently and then nodded. “Go. Do what you have to do, and find the diablo who hurt my sweet boy.”

  “Before I do, I wanted to ask you if you were awake that night,” Rachel said. “I couldn’t ask before — the others were afraid you were too delicate to even know about Leon.”

  Abuelita laughed. “Families,” she said. “In some ways, I’m the strongest of them all. I love my boy and his family, but they’ve led a very privileged life. Never really known hardship. I wish they’d told me before. Maybe I could have convinced Edward not to do this foolish thing he did. But of course, my boy has a stubborn streak, just like his father.”

  “Abuelita, on the night Leon died, were you fast asleep through it all?”

  Abuelita nodded. “I’m afraid so. I’ll be no help to you. Oh, I did get up once, to use the bathroom. Old age shrinks your bladder, it feels like.”

  “Any chance you heard anything? Saw anything?”

  Abuelita frowned, then said. “I didn’t know about Leon’s death. If someone had told me earlier I could have put this together… Of course. Of course!”

  “What?” Rachel asked eagerly.

  “I heard the screams, too,” Abuelita said. “Only I was half asleep then and thought it was you girls coming back home from your party. Half asleep, I thought they were screams of celebration, not horror. It must have been past midnight by then. It must have been Lily’s screams I heard.”

  “But did you see anything?” Rachel asked.

  “On my way to the bathroom, I saw a man running past our house,” Abuelita said. “Five minuets later, I must have heard the scream. Not more than that.”

  Rachel felt her heart leap. “Did you notice anything about him? Anything at all?”

  Abuelita shook her head. “It was a brief glance out the window on my way to the bathroom. All I remember is that his shoes were neon green. I’m not even sure it was a man — my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and all I saw was a blur.” Abuelita paused. “I saw the murderer, didn’t I?”

  Rachel bit her lip, not knowing what to say.

  “Maybe,” was all she could manage.

  *****

  Chapter 18

  The Rock

  As she stepped away from the big house, Rachel felt like the cloud of confidence that Abuelita had managed to wrap around her dissipated immediately. The heart might know more than the head sometimes, but it was no genius, and it was easily misguided. For now, at least, one thing had become clear to her on talking to Abuelita.

  She needed to watch out for green shoes.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Rachel swooped it up. There was some interference, but her mother’s voice eventually came through, sharp and full of glass. “Rachel? What’s going on?”

  “Mom?” Rachel paused. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m with Scott. Your father’s been arrested? I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve been let go?” Rachel asked.

  “Well, since I was in police custody when Edward Gomez was attacked, and since most people here agree I didn’t magically teleport to
the island…yes. They’re letting me go.”

  “I guess there’s always a silver lining.” Rachel sighed. “How are you, Mom?”

  “Scared, relieved, angry.” Rachel heard her mother pause for a second. “Worried.”

  “Worried?”

  “About you, sweetheart,” her mother said. “You shouldn’t be on that island alone. I scolded Scott for leaving you there. He seemed to think you needed the time alone. But if there’s a killer still loose out there...”

  “Scott doesn’t think so.” She couldn’t help it, resentment crept into her voice. “He thinks Dad’s the killer.”

  “Rubbish. Your father is far too smart.”

  “Too smart to kill someone? I don’t think brains have anything to do with it, mom. Character does.”

  “He’s too smart to kill in a way that can so easily be linked back to him,” Rachel’s mother said. “You know that, surely. If he wanted to kill Leon, he’d have hired a hit man off the dark net, or engineered some sort of car accident, or taken him trekking and pushed him off a cliff. He wouldn’t wait until we were all gathered together and then use a gun. A gun! So unrefined and crude. It’s like you don’t know him at all, Rachel. I told your young man that he’s being an idiot. He’s on his way back to you now.”

  Despite herself, Rachel laughed. Only her mom could say something simultaneously hilarious, rude and true.

  “So you don’t think he did it?”

  “I was married to that man for twenty years.” Lily said. “There’s only one situation I can imagine in which he’d lose his temper enough to kill someone.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If someone hurt you,” Lily said.

  There was silence, as Rachel processed this. Then she shook her head. “That’s a nice thing to say, mom. But we haven’t talked in so long. Dad barely even thinks about me anymore.”

  “I never said he’s not arrogant and self absorbed and always chasing money,” Lily snapped. “That’s just who your father is. But he loves you. Doubt what you like, but don’t doubt that.”

  Rachel swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling tight. “Alright.”

  There was silence again, and Lily said, “Rachel, we should meet. Soon. Really soon. I know it’s my fault we haven’t…I know you’ve been avoiding me since your Aunt Rose died.”

  “I haven’t—”

  “And I know some part of you was ashamed of moving to Swaddle, of giving up your dreams in San Francisco,” Lily said. “But none of that matters, honey. The last few days have taught me that much, at least. I feel like I’ve come out of a fog. I was such a fool. All of it — coming down here, trying to ruin your father’s wedding out of jealousy… and it was jealousy. I hope you can forgive me for it. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wish I never had.”

  “It’s too late. You’re crying over spilt milk,” Rachel said.

  “I know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for it.” Lily hesitated.

  “You don’t need to.”

  “But I do. I really do. You were a rock by my side when I needed it the most. You believed in me. If you hadn’t, I’d have given up the fight before it even started. It’s thanks to you and Scott that I’m free now.”

  Rachel felt a horrible sense of guilt flood through her. If what her mother said was true- it also meant that Rachel had let down her father when he needed her the most. He’d gone to the police believing that his own daughter thought he was a murderer.

  “Rachel? Are you there?”

  “I…I have to go, mom,” Rachel said. “Can we meet again soon?”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” her mother said. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a little while? I have a nice room booked at a resort here in Key West. There’s nothing on that island for you anyway.”

  “I can’t yet,” Rachel said. “Not till… not for a while.”

  “Not till what?”

  “Not till I’ve done everything I can to make sure Dad goes free.”

  The police had finally finished forensics at Leon’s cottage and the yellow tape had been taken off. Even so, the place looked like a mess when Rachel passed by. With a start, she realized that Denise was sitting on the red sofa in the living room, oversized headphones on her ears. Her eyes were closed and her head had fallen back on the sofa.

  For half a second, Rachel’s heart stopped, as she considered that Denise might be the killer’s new victim. Then, she saw Denise breathe, and let out a breath herself. She was asleep, not dead. The door was ajar, and Rachel went in. She put a hand on Denise’s shoulder, and Denise opened her eyes. To Rachel’s surprise, they were full of tears.

  “Sorry.” Denise sniffed, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and shoved off her headphones. “Did you want something?”

  “No. Just…I wanted to talk to you,” Rachel said. “See if you’re okay.”

  Denise swallowed, her eyes still magnified by tears. She shook her head. “It’s just been so intense. All of it. I needed a break.”

  “I understand.” Rachel sat down next to her, gingerly moving the headphones away. She could hear music flow out from them, but couldn’t quite make out the song.

  “It’s an old Sinatra song called Summer Wind,” Denise said, placing the headphones upon Rachel’s ears. Rachel closed her eyes and let Sinatra’s dark velvet voice flow through her.

  The autumn wind, and the winter winds they have come and gone

  And still the days, those lonely days, they go on and on

  And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end

  My fickle friend, the summer wind

  “Beautiful,” Rachel said, as the final nostalgic notes of the song faded away.

  “We heard it on our first date together, Leon and I,” Denise said. “We were in New York and we’d spent the day roaming around Central Park. Some street musician began playing this near a fountain, and we stood there, one hand holding an ice-cream cone, the other hand linked together.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s gone. Really gone.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Rachel said. How could her father and Valentina have misjudged Denise so? Perhaps she’d loved Leon more for his deep pockets than his heart, but Denise had loved him nevertheless. There was true sorrow on her face, lining her eyes and making them seem unfocused.

  “I don’t know who I can talk about it with.” Denise continued. “Val and Ryan don’t get it. Obviously. They think our marriage was just a sham.”

  “I guess...” Rachel hesitated, not wanting to say something that might hurt Denise. “I guess the affairs confused them...”

  Denise bit her lip and turned away from Rachel. Her mouth worked for a few seconds, then she seemed to get back her control. “Blunt, aren’t you?” She laughed.

  “Sorry,” Rachel said.

  “Leon had told me even before we married that he’d never be a one-woman-man. He didn’t expect me to be a one-man-woman either. I know, maybe I should have broken up with him right then. But I was young, and naïve, and thought love could conquer everything.” She stopped and sniffed. “He did love me. That I’m sure of. In his own frustrating, roundabout way. He wouldn’t have married me if he didn’t.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Rachel said. She couldn’t comprehend it, really. But she did know that Denise was in pain, and that she wanted to do what she could to help.

  Sniffing, Denise stood up.

  “I have to pick out a suit for the funeral,” she said. “They’re releasing the body the day after tomorrow. We’ll be having the funeral in Miami — it’s more convenient for the firm’s clients that way.” She blinked. “I try and focus and then lose track of what I’m supposed to do. The doctor said it’s natural. It’s just grief...”

  “It is,” Rachel said. “It will pass. Focus on getting through one day at a time and, before you know it, you’ll be better.”

  Denise nodded. “I just keep thinking about it. It’s my fault, in a way. If I hadn’
t stayed out so late with you and Valentina. If I hadn’t decided to have a slumber party with Valentina. I should have been here. I could have been here.”

  “Denise, when you were with Valentina, did you see anything?” Rachel asked. “I mean… near midnight? I know you were quite far away from Leon’s…well…your cottage, but...”

  “As far away as anything can be on this island.” Denise shrugged. “No. We didn’t see anything.”

  “Maybe someone running past?” Rachel asked. “A man in green shoes, perhaps?”

  Denise shook her head. “No. We didn’t see anything. Valentina and I were having margaritas and watching a movie — 10 Things I Hate About You.”

  “Oh, alright,” Rachel said, disappointed. She’d been hoping for a clue.

  “Well, of course that was after she got that text from Ryan. A little past midnight.”

  “My dad texted her?”

  Denise nodded. “Valentina left me alone in the cottage and nipped over to Ryan’s. She was back in ten minutes.”

  “Wait.” Rachel stared at Denise. “Have you told the police this?”

  “I just remembered, to be honest,” Denise said. “I don’t know. I haven’t been thinking straight, I didn’t connect it with… what happened to Leon.”

  “So Valentina was out of the house for ten minutes the night of the murder?” Rachel asked.

  “She went to see Ryan.” Denise was suddenly defensive. “Val’s my best friend, Rachel. I know she—”

  “She didn’t meet my dad,” Rachel said. “He would have spoken about it.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Denise nodded. “She said he wasn’t at home when she went over. Kind of weird if you ask me. But whatever.” Denise shrugged. “I honestly forgot. I’m sorry. Do you think I should go to the police and tell them about this? About Ryan not being there when Valentina went.”

  “I—” Rachel hesitated. On the one hand, it seemed like important information. On the other, it might get her father into more trouble. She wrestled with her conscience for a few seconds, and it’s voice was suspiciously like Scott’s when it said, “Do the right thing.”