The Diva Takes the Cake

by Davis, Krista

  “I guess you’d better ask Craig or Hannah.” I spread jam on my muffin, anticipating the tangy sweetness of the blueberries. “Are they still in bed? You didn’t send Jen to wake them, too?”

  Jen poked me in the ribs and pointed to the arched opening to the foyer.

  Wearing gray sweatshorts and a T-shirt, Hannah looked like she was ready to burst into tears. “Craig’s gone.”

  SIXTEEN

  From “Ask Natasha” :

  Dear Natasha,

  Many of my daughter’s wedding guests are traveling a good distance to attend the wedding. They’ll be here for the whole weekend, but we have so much going on before the wedding that I won’t have time to entertain. I’m worried that they’ll feel neglected.

  —Proper Mom on Pine Knoll Shores

  Dear Proper Mom,

  Plan alternatives for guests who aren’t in the wedding. Arrange for limos to favorite restaurants and popular destinations. Set up sightseeing tours, beach trips, hiking, shopping, whatever your area has to offer. Always enlist a family member or dear friend to make introductions and ensure an enjoyable excursion for everyone. And make it extra special by crafting gift baskets based on the theme of the excursion.

  —Natasha

  The flood of tears burst forth. “He’s gone,” Hannah sobbed. “It’s just like Wanda said. I lost my ring and now I’ve lost Craig.”

  Mom hurried to her side and walked her to the kitchen table while the rest of us exchanged wide-eyed looks.

  “Maybe he went for a run,” said Jen.

  Mom patted Hannah’s shoulder. “I’m sure that’s it. Jen’s right. Craig loves to run. He’s probably out getting some exercise.”

  I wasn’t so sure. I looked at Dad and Mars. Wasn’t anyone else thinking he left because he’d murdered Emily?

  Hannah sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand in a most unbridelike manner. “I knew something was wrong when we said good night. He kissed me like you kiss somebody you’re never going to see again.”

  Mars reached across the table to her. “Honey, I’m certain he’s out running.”

  Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and wailed, “You don’t understand. His luggage is gone.”

  Dad, Mars, and I leaped to our feet and charged up the stairs to the guest bedroom, with Daisy and Mochie racing along. Neat as a pin, the bed clearly hadn’t been slept in. I opened the closet door. The hanging bag and suitcase were gone.

  “I have to call Wolf,” I said. “He must have known it was a matter of time and took off to evade arrest.”

  “No!” Hannah spoke from the doorway to the bedroom. “This is your fault, Sophie. Don’t you breathe a word of this to your horrible Wolf.”

  I wasn’t getting how this was my fault, but I could understand Hannah’s distress and inability to think clearly at the moment.

  “I never trusted Craig.” Dad sighed. “It always seemed like he was hiding something.”

  That brought on a new torrent of tears.

  “The car,” I blurted. “Does anyone know where he parked last night?”

  Dad hugged Hannah to him. “He said something about getting a spot across the street from Mars’s place when a police car pulled out.”

  As if we shared thoughts, Mars and I loped down the stairs and out the kitchen door with Daisy running ahead, excited by the commotion. When we reached the sidewalk, Mars slid the fabric belt off his robe and looped it around Daisy’s collar as a makeshift leash. We jogged along the sidewalk toward his house, but there was no sign of Craig’s Toyota Camry.

  “I don’t know what we thought we’d find,” said Mars. “This stinks. I’d like to punch him in the nose.”

  Behind him, I could see Natasha striding across the street toward us, her jaw rigid. “How much do you two want to embarrass me? Don’t you know what people will think if they see the two of you out here together in your nightclothes?” She paused and made a face like she’d sucked on a lemon. “Sophie,” she clucked, “that robe is ready to be cut into dusting cloths.”

  I pulled it tighter and examined her outfit in a desperate attempt to lash back. But the pale green trousers and matching shell could have come straight from a store window. Even her shoes matched.

  “I gave Sophie that bathrobe,” said Mars.

  A red flush sprang to Natasha’s face, and her nostrils flared. “And you, standing out here with your ex-wife, exposing your bare chest to the entire neighborhood.”

  Mars handed me Daisy’s lead and pulled his bathrobe closed. “Calm down, Natasha. This isn’t about you. It looks like Craig left Hannah.”

  Her anger changed to astonishment. “Impossible. He loves Hannah. Craig would never leave her the day before the wedding.”

  “He left during the night without a word,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” she insisted, “there must be some other explanation.”

  “There is,” I said drolly, “he murdered his ex-wife and strung her up in your pergola and now he’s on the run.”

  Her face stiffened. “Craig would not do that to me.”

  “I had no idea you were so close.”

  “You’d best hurry and change, Mars. I see people are beginning to gather for the walk through Old Town.”

  He allowed her to propel him away, but I heard him mutter, “I live here. I’m not wasting my morning strolling around town like a tourist.”

  I turned and smacked headlong into Wolf.

  Taking an awkward step back, I wondered if I could avoid telling him about Craig’s abrupt departure. After all, if Craig had killed Emily, the cops needed to find him. I loved Hannah, but she couldn’t see Craig in a true light.

  “Missed you at the party last night,” I said.

  “Did you?” He seemed a little put out with me, as though I’d committed a crime.

  “Of course. It would have been more fun with you there.” I smiled encouragingly and wrapped my bathrobe tighter. “Any leads on Emily’s killer?” Under normal circumstances I’d have invited him in for coffee, but since Hannah wanted to keep Craig’s departure secret, that didn’t seem wise. Under his scrutiny, I felt shabby and wished I were as put together as Natasha.

  “Sophie!” Mom stood in the doorway and motioned for me to return. Hannah and a gaggle of her friends clustered behind Mom.

  “I’d better go.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “See you later?” I asked.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

  I walked up to my door wondering what I’d done to offend Wolf.

  The second I strode into the foyer, Hannah blurted, “How could you?” and ran up the stairs.

  Phoebe and a couple of the other bridesmaids frowned at me and shook their heads.

  I followed Mom into the kitchen. “What did I do now?”

  She shook aspirin out of the bottle and into her hand. “Craig better not come back or I’ll strangle him personally for putting us all through this.”

  “Why is everyone so mad at me?”

  “For talking to Wolf.”

  “But I didn’t spill the beans. And it wasn’t easy.”

  Mom swallowed the aspirin with a glass of water. “I’m going with Hannah and the girls to the salon to have their nails done.”

  I began to point out that wasn’t necessary since there wouldn’t be a wedding, but she interrupted me.

  “You don’t know that. The salon will distract Hannah and make her feel better and they can all commiserate.”

  “Then I’ll go on the walking tour with Dad and Jen and make sure everyone has a good time.”

  She heaved a great sigh. “Hannah doesn’t want us to tell anyone else about Craig being gone. Not yet, anyway. I’m inclined to indulge her on this, at least for a few hours, until she gets used to the idea.”

  “What about the bridesmaids’ luncheon?”

  “Given the circumstances, I think that would be unbearable for Hannah. You’d better go change.”

  I headed for the stairs, but she grabbe
d my bathrobe. “And Sophie, wear makeup and put on something less frumpy. Mars might be on the tour, and that Wolf of yours is all over the neighborhood working on the murder.”

  After a super quick shower, I changed into a sleeveless coral top and khaki skirt. I skipped makeup but applied a little lipstick, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and hurried downstairs.

  Holding Daisy’s leash, Jen grabbed my hand and tugged me out the door. “What took you so long? They’re already beginning to walk.”

  Nina ran out of her house with Hermione and handed Jen the leash. “Jen’s puppy-sitting until I get back.”

  “Cute outfit.” I raised an eyebrow at the snazzy tennis togs and short skirt that showed off her slender legs.

  “Didn’t Jen tell you? I’m playing in a tennis tournament this morning.”

  Nina dashed back to her house, and we caught up to the rest of our group. Robert and Darby walked with Dad. Natasha was being too friendly with Kevin, and I noted that Mars had managed to avoid the tour.

  Jen skipped a few steps ahead to Darby. “Do you think they’ll take us to the cemetery?”

  Darby stiffened her fingers and walked like Franken stein, moaning, “Ooooooo.”

  Our group gathered around a statue in the very spot where soldiers had gathered to join the Confederate army. We walked by buildings where George and Martha Washington and Thomas Jefferson had lived. But when the guide pretended he saw a ghostly face in the window of Gadsby’s Tavern, Jen’s hand wandered into mine, ice-cold.

  “It’s just pretend,” I whispered.

  Darby tried to cheer her up. “Jen, did you know that Phoebe and I have met before? Isn’t that funny?”

  Jen wasn’t interested but I was. “How do you know Phoebe?”

  “Oh, you won’t believe this. Your sister registered at a branch of the store I work for. So then, Phoebe, she comes in to the china department where I work and she wants to know did anybody get her girlfriend a gravy boat yet? So I look it up on the computer and people have bought almost everything Hannah registered for. I thought to myself—I should be so lucky. So there’s a little link to her wedding Web site and I click it and bingo, there’s my cousin, Craig, the groom. Who knew?”

  “You had no idea he was getting married?”

  “Absolutely none. So I called the family and told everybody. My mom probably told Emily’s mom. You know how people gossip.”

  “Darby, it’s none of my business, but do you know what drove Craig and his dad apart?”

  She paused like she was thinking of a polite way to explain something. “It was a disagreement over a business transaction. You know how stubborn men can be. If everyone had just done what he said, there wouldn’t have been a squabble. So, Jen, do you know where Craig and Hannah will live?”

  “I think they’re going to buy a new house. I haven’t been to Craig’s house, but Hannah says he lives in the woods. There are lots of birds and raccoons and stuff.”

  “Sounds adorable. Hey, Jen, whaddya say we peel off from the group and grab an ice cream cone?”

  I gladly took the leashes of the two dogs. As they walked across the street, I heard Darby say, “You’re so adorable. Do you have a boyfriend? Wait, I bet you have two . . .”

  Four portly women holding ice cream cones spied Natasha and ran across the street to fuss over her. When she stopped to sign autographs, I moved in on Kevin and inched him away from the rest of the group. I wanted to question him out of Natasha’s earshot—no easy task the way she’d been clinging to him.

  Speaking softly, I said, “Craig took off this morning.”

  Kevin blinked at me with innocent eyes. “What do you mean? Where to?”

  “I was hoping you might know. Why would he leave Hannah in the lurch?” I didn’t add if he didn’t kill Emily, but that’s what I was thinking.

  Kevin grimaced. “I hope it’s not his heart.”

  “A broken heart?” That didn’t make sense.

  “I mean maybe his heart couldn’t take it. Maybe it was too much for him, the wedding and the reunion with his family, and he had to get away so he wouldn’t have another heart attack.”

  “He had a heart attack? When was this?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know. That’s why he’s no longer practicing medicine.”

  SEVENTEEN

  From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

  Dear Sophie,

  I love an open bar, but my fiance’s groomsmen could empty a well-stocked bar all by themselves. Aside from turning my wedding into a night of drunken debauchery, I know I’ll be thinking they’re sucking us dry. How do I control these liquor-crazed heathens?

  —Toasting True Love in Towson

  Dear Toasting,

  Close the bar when it’s time for dinner and don’t reopen it. Serve wine with dinner, and be sure waiters know to keep the groomsmen’s water glasses full and to delay refilling their wineglasses.

  —Sophie

  “He’s not a doctor?” I asked in a low voice so the entire tour group wouldn’t hear. “I was there when my dad looked him up on the Internet and found his medical background.” It had been sparse, but it confirmed what we knew. He’d attended medical school on the West Coast, interned in South Dakota, and was licensed to practice medicine in West Virginia.

  Kevin backed up a step. “This is the suspicious Sophie that Craig warned me about, isn’t it?”

  I grabbed his arm and didn’t let him pull away. “This is my sister’s life. If he’s not a doctor, you’d better tell me what you know—now.”

  “Look, Sophie, Craig is my friend and he’s very sensitive about this. I better let him tell you the rest.” With an eye on Natasha and her admirers, he said, “I’m enjoying the tour, but this is my only chance to escape for a while. You don’t know where I am. Okay?” He wound through our little group and ran like a frightened buck until he vanished around the next corner.

  Anxiety gnawed at me. What else didn’t we know about Craig? Was Hannah aware of all this? I reminded myself that it was over. He’d left, and I hoped he wouldn’t return.

  I looked around for Jen. She and Darby lagged behind, and I was happy to see Jen licking a chocolate ice cream cone.

  Robert stopped and waited for them.

  I sidled over and waited with him. “Where’s Uncle Stan this morning?”

  Darby and Jen caught up to us, Jen reached for Hermione’s leash with her free hand, and we all strolled behind the tour group.

  Robert’s odd voice crackled as he said, “He went to visit a relative. I’ve been calling Craig all morning but I guess he turned off his phone.”

  It was Jen, with chocolate lips, who spilled the beans. “He left.”

  Robert stopped walking. “Whaddya mean?”

  There was no getting around it. “He took off during the night.”

  “No!” whispered Darby. I didn’t think she could look more shocked. Her eyebrows lifted and her brown eyes grew huge. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a look flashed between Darby and Robert.

  “Poor Hannah. I should go to her,” said Darby. “I know exactly how she feels.”

  “You were left at the altar?” I nabbed one of Jen’s paper napkins and wiped a drip of chocolate off her shirt.

  “My deadbeat husband left me. Never said a word, just didn’t come home one day. Now I ask you—is it really too much to expect them to scribble a note on the mirror with your lipstick? How hard would that be?”

  We continued on the tour, and I spotted Bernie’s pub on a side street. I picked up my pace and caught up to my dad. “Keep an eye on Jen, will you? I’m going to have a word with Bernie.” I handed him Daisy’s leash, but he seemed more interested in the guide, who was telling a spellbinding story about George Washington. Jen listened at Darby’s side, and I figured between Gramps and Darby she’d be okay.

  I hurried along Pitt Street, glad I’d worn rubber-soled shoes because the brick sidewalks weren’t completely even. I pulled open the heavy front door and found that the “pub”
wasn’t at all what I remembered. Someone had put serious money into renovations. Brass and glass gleamed against gorgeous dark wood. The bar, a few steps down to my right, reminded me of an upscale men’s club. Large leather chairs and sofas clustered around tables. A huge stone fireplace occupied a far wall, and behind the bar, longer than any I could recall seeing, glasses of every imaginable shape and kind glinted under the lights.