The Diva Takes the Cake

by Davis, Krista

  “We could hide in the house somewhere.” Nina sucked in a little breath.

  Hermione pricked her ears and turned her long nose, looking about in alarm.

  “Bernie’s apartment. She and Wanda obviously talk out there. We could drop a microphone out one of his windows to pick up their voices.” But as Nina spoke, a squad car drove toward us. “Oh, crud. Natasha called the cops on us!”

  A shiver ran through me. Natasha might be up to no good, but the police car came to a halt directly in front of my house.

  There weren’t any flashing lights, which I hoped might be a good sign. Detective Kenner stepped out of the car and smirked. Surely he hadn’t taken Mordecai’s nonsense about Hannah seriously. Dear heaven, they couldn’t arrest Hannah!

  I broke into a run, but Kenner beat me to my front door and had already banged the knocker.

  My heart pounded. “What do you want?”

  His lips pulled upward in a cruel grin. “I’m just doing my job.”

  His answer irritated me. He could give me a proper response. The door swung open, revealing Hannah, sweet and vulnerable. Tucker and Humphrey crowded behind her.

  “Tucker Bradford Hensley the fifth?” said Kenner.

  Tucker stepped forward. “Good afternoon, constable.”

  “I’d like you to come down to the station with me for questioning.”

  “No!” shouted Hannah. She reached for Tucker, but Kenner swiftly steered him to the police car. Mars, Nina, and I stepped aside so they could pass us, but Hannah ran after them. As she caught up to them, Tucker leaned toward her for a lingering nuzzle on her cheek. Hannah nodded as if he’d said something. Then she watched him fold himself into the backseat of the squad car. When Kenner slammed the door, Hannah placed her palm on the window.

  The police car drew away and Hannah marched into the house, her face grim. My parents and Jen peppered her with questions until she finally threw her arms in the air and said, “I don’t know more than any of you.”

  Craig puffed out his chest. Wrapping his arms around Hannah, he said, “It appears the police have their man. I’m so relieved. Now you can go to New Jersey with me. Maybe we can even get away on our honeymoon?”

  Hannah wrenched loose. “I . . . I’m sorry, Craig. I have to help Tucker. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

  “But now you know it wasn’t me, Hannah.”

  I held my breath, afraid Hannah would do an abrupt about-face and melt into Craig’s arms.

  She stood her ground. “Do I, Craig?” Her eyes sparked with fury.

  I was relieved by her response but wondered what she was thinking. She motioned to Joel, who trailed after her into the sunroom. I followed to see what was going on, and the others crowded into the sunroom, too. Hannah picked up a designer duffel bag. “This must be Tucker’s. As they were taking him away, he said Joel could cash in the contents if we need to bail him out.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

  Dear Sophie,

  What two things does every wedding need? I’m on a shoe-string and can’t decide what’s most important.

  —Cutting the Cake in Custer

  Dear Cutting,

  A written budget and a calendar. Once you see the numbers, you can adjust so that you’ll spend less on things that don’t matter to you and move your money where it counts. Don’t be under the misimpression that a wedding has to be fancy or large to be special. A wedding in a national forest, by a lake, or in a small country chapel has every bit as much charm as a major production in a hotel or mansion.

  —Sophie

  “Your ex-husband murders my uncle and you’re going to bail him out?” Craig stared at her in astonishment. “This isn’t like you. You were always on my side. I thought you loved me.”

  Hannah ignored him and shook the contents of the duffel bag onto the floor. Along with Tucker’s clothes, the tiaras tumbled onto the old brick.

  Jen screeched with joy and launched herself at the small tiara while Hannah pawed through the remaining contents. “I don’t see anything valuable. Do you think he meant the tiaras?”

  Craig snickered. “He’s an idiot, Hannah. Tucker doesn’t love you. He’s been cozying up to you so I’ll pay him to leave.”

  Hannah’s brow furrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true! Surely you don’t think he came here to win you back. All he wants is money. It’s probably not a coincidence that your engagement ring went missing at the same time Tucker showed up.”

  “Oh, that’s low. He would never steal my ring.”

  “No? He stole your tiara. He’s broke . . . again. Come on—pack up and let’s head north.”

  Joel held the larger tiara in his hand. “Aw, he must have thought these were real. Why else would he stash them in his bag?”

  “They’re not real?” asked Jen.

  “They’re real tiaras,” Joel said sweetly, “but not real diamonds.”

  Jen plopped hers on her head and said, “I don’t care. I love mine.”

  “Poor Tucker! What are we going to do?” said Hannah.

  Craig cleared his throat. “You, Mrs. Beacham, are going to go upstairs and pack your bag so we can leave. Tucker doesn’t deserve your pity. He killed my uncle, and he stole from you.”

  Craig was right. But I understood Hannah, too. If Kenner had arrested Mars, I would have believed the best about him. “Maybe Tucker had a good reason for pinching the tiaras.” I didn’t know what that good reason might be, but I wanted to help Hannah.

  Craig glowered at me. “Hannah, could I speak with you privately?”

  “I’m not changing my mind. Go to New Jersey with your dad. When you’re done, come back here and we’ll talk.”

  His comb-over flapping, he left the room and we heard his feet, heavy on the stairs as he raced up them.

  Mom and Dad closed in on Hannah, consoling and praising her. And Humphrey boldly assured my father he would look out for Hannah. Like he would be of any help.

  The next half-hour passed in a flurry of suitcases being brought down. I carried a bag out to the car for my parents, and when I returned, Hannah and Craig were at it again in my foyer.

  Hannah’s lower jaw quivered, but her hands were balled into tight fists. Humphrey flitted around them like a mosquito who thought he was a prizefighter waiting for his chance to get in a good shot.

  Craig simply ignored him. “I don’t understand you anymore, Hannah. You wanted to be married and as soon as we were, you turned on me and acted like I was a stranger.”

  “You are.”

  “But why? I’ve done everything for you. Is it Tucker? Do you want to go back to him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then what? You loved me, I know you did. But being around your family . . .” Craig jabbed a finger in my direction. “They’re a bad influence. You get around your sister and start acting like a suspicious shrew, exactly like her.”

  “Just a minute,” said Dad from the upstairs landing. “I won’t have you insulting us.”

  Craig stepped closer to Hannah. “Please, come with me. Everything will be okay when it’s only the two of us again.”

  Hannah backed away. “Nothing can ever be the same. Don’t you understand?”

  Craig’s gaze drifted over to me.

  “My feelings have nothing to do with Sophie. Craig, I saw you. I saw you walk out of the shed.”

  “But I didn’t kill Stan. Can’t you grasp that? I swear I didn’t kill him. How can you think it was me now that the cops have Tucker in custody? You’re not making sense, Hannah.”

  She opened the front door for him. In a patient tone, Hannah said, “I need to help Tucker. I’m sorry.”

  Craig left in a huff, and the rest of us relaxed visibly once he was gone. Parading about proudly, as though he’d run Craig off, Humphrey proclaimed, “Good riddance. I shall make it my mission to see that he never troubles you again.”

  To my unending surprise, Hannah
held the door open for Humphrey, too. “Thanks for protecting me. See you around.” The poor guy stumbled out the door, and Hannah closed it before he could protest.

  While Dad carried the last bag to the car and Jen hugged Mochie, Hermione, and Daisy, Mom beckoned me to the living room.

  “Now listen, Sophie. It’s abundantly clear that your relationship with Mars is not over. We can see what’s going on, so there’s no use in denying it. Your father and I would welcome Mars back into the family. We’re both very fond of him, and you make such a lovely couple.”

  “Mom, you’re misconstruing things.”

  She waggled a finger under my nose. “A mother knows. Natasha has a better eye for makeup and sexy clothes. But you’re a pretty woman, Sophie. You just have to take the time to look alluring so you can steal Mars back from her.” She cupped my cheek in her hand. “Now promise me you’ll try.”

  A brief yes would have made her happy. But it would be a lie. And though I didn’t think her hopes could be raised any higher, I didn’t want to mislead her. “Mom, it’s not going to happen.”

  “I don’t believe it. Open up to the possibility, sweetie.”

  Dad and Jen called her and they finally departed, prompting Hannah to say, “I thought they’d never leave.”

  She walked into the kitchen, shouting, “Joel?”

  Mars and Nina were relaxing at my kitchen table with coffee mugs, but Joel held car keys in his hand.

  “Are you going to see Tucker?” asked Hannah.

  “Yeah. Now that Dad’s gone, I guess that responsibility falls to me.” He gazed around at us. “Tucker has his faults, but he’s like family to me. And you always take care of family.”

  Kevin grumbled, “I feel like a traitor. I came to be the best man and now I’m going to help the groom’s rival.”

  Nina laughed. “Oh, please! It’s not like medieval times. You don’t have to avenge his honor.”

  “Still, Craig is my friend.”

  Joel asked, “Are you coming or not?”

  “Let’s go.” Hannah was out the kitchen door in a flash with Joel right behind her. Kevin followed and Phoebe took the time to wave as she left.

  Once the cavalry had departed, Mars yawned and said, “I’m starved. I can’t go home to eat. There’s no telling what Natasha put in the food. What’s on tap, Sophie?”

  With a glance at the looming pile of dishes, I made a snap decision. “Chocolate mousse. Down at Bernie’s.”

  After corralling the dogs in the kitchen, Nina, Mars, and I walked to Bernie’s pub and nabbed a table on the terrace. I ordered a pot of English Breakfast tea, and since I had more of that heavenly chocolate mousse in mind for dessert, I opted for a curried pineapple and turkey salad. Nina and Mars went for the Pub Club, a sandwich stacked with three kinds of meat and two kinds of cheese.

  Leaning back in the chair, I tried to shake off the horrors of the weekend. Two people were dead and Hannah was married to the person who probably killed them. And instead of getting closer to Wolf, here I was with my ex-husband. Again.

  Through the window, I could see Bernie rush into an agitated cluster of waitresses. He resolved the problem and was headed for his office when he spied us.

  “Jolly good timing.” He pulled out the fourth chair and sat down. “What a day. I haven’t had a minute for lunch, and now half my female staff has gone goofy over Tucker. Was he really arrested?”

  Mars nearly spewed the water he drank. “You mean all those pretty young things are in love with Tucker?”

  “Hard to grasp, isn’t it? Makes me consider buying a red sports car.”

  “Now, fellows,” said Nina, “don’t forget that Tucker still has those boyish good looks. It’s not just the car. Plus, Tucker has a way of making every girl feel special.”

  “Now he can make the lady jail wardens feel special,” Bernie quipped.

  Mars toyed with his fork. “I don’t think he’s under arrest yet. Just in for questioning.”

  “The three young ladies who went to rescue him shall be sorely disappointed. I must say, though, while I can clearly envision Craig jabbing a bloke with a knife, I can’t see Tucker going through with it. He might joke about using it as a sword, or even have mock fights with it, but I can’t see him taking that final fatal step.”

  “Maybe it was an accident,” I said. The waitress set my dish in front of me. Large chunks of turkey breast mingled with pineapple in a golden sauce. “Maybe he was playing around, as you suggest, and then he slipped, or Stan moved where he didn’t expect, and suddenly Stan was speared.”

  Bernie asked the waitress to bring him a Laughing Dog and a Pub Club.

  “Laughing Dog?” Mars plucked a strip of bacon from his sandwich and chewed it.

  “English-style ale made here in the States.”

  “Not that I mean to interrupt what would surely be a fascinating discussion about beer, but does anyone know anything about Kevin?” Nina needed both hands to pick up half her sandwich.

  “He said he works out with Craig.”

  “He told me he owns the gym where they work out.” Mars sipped his iced tea. “Did Hannah ever find her ring?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Nina tried to mash her sandwich. “These are like a delicatessen inside bread. Umm.”

  The waitress brought Bernie’s Pub Club and ale and set them in front of him. “Poor Tucker. All anyone can talk about is the murders.”

  “What are people saying?” I asked.

  She cast a quick glance at Bernie, but he was already busy eating. “The speculation is that the bride killed the groom’s ex-wife and the uncle found out, so she offed him, too.”

  I was not glad I asked. I could only imagine what they were saying about the fact that we’d served dinner after the murder.

  When the waitress moved to another table, Nina sat back in her chair. “Let’s look at this logically. We have Craig, who had more motives and opportunity than anyone else. Right?”

  I had to agree. He remained my number one suspect.

  “And then we have Tucker, who appears to interest the police. We know he had a motive to kill Stan, but what about Emily?”

  I swallowed a savory bit of turkey. “He met her here—the night before she was killed.”

  “So he might have known her? No wonder he’s a contender. Who else? We can add Kevin to the list, but I don’t think he knew Emily.”

  “He was supposed to be Craig’s best man. Don’t you think his best man knew his ex-wife? Bernie was my best man, and he certainly knows,” Mars smiled at me, “Sophie.”

  “Good point. We’ll keep Kevin on our list. What about Craig’s dad?”

  “He’s a little small to strangle someone and hang her up on a pergola, don’t you think?” I scooped up the last morsel of tangy, sweet pineapple.

  “He could have stabbed his brother, though.” Mars pointed at the half sandwich that remained on Nina’s plate. “Are you going to eat that?”

  Nina protected it with both hands. “You betcha. I’m just resting.”

  Bernie took a swig of his beer. “The first night, at the barbecue, I thought Wanda fancied Stan. But when we decorated the backyard, she catered to Robert. You don’t suppose Robert killed Stan over Natasha’s mother?”

  Mars snorted into his iced tea. “Next suspect! How about darling Darby? She got out of Dodge very fast.”

  I poured myself another cup of tea. “I think you’re on the wrong trail there. She was devastated by Emily’s death.”

  “There you have it, then. A motley cast of three possibilities—Craig, Kevin, and Tucker,” Bernie said.

  A little cry went up in the restaurant. “What now?” Excusing himself, Bernie hustled over to the waitresses making a scene. They dispersed and Bernie returned to our table. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of bad news. One of the waitresses just heard that Tucker’s fingerprints are on the handle of the knife. And they found Stan’s money clip and $5,000 in Tucker’s car.

  THIRT
Y-FIVE

  From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

  Dear Sophie,

  At the last wedding we attended, the bride gave glass Cinderella slippers as favors. You can imagine how much my husband cherished his. Our own daughter, in the feverish throes of wedding insanity, is wavering between conch shells and wax roses. My husband and I imagine these items going straight into trash cans. I’m pushing for an edible favor, but my daughter says I’m out of touch with the times.