The Diva Takes the Cake

by Davis, Krista

  “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but no one has ever accused me of murder before. This is a life experience I could have done without.”

  I glanced out at the backyard. “If you had been awake, you would have had a perfect view of the killer coming and going from the shed.”

  He shifted his head backward and sighed.

  “Tucker Hensley! You did see something.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  From “Ask Natasha” :

  Dear Natasha,

  I love your show and never miss it. I adored the centerpieces that light up underneath the flowers and make the vases glow. My florist thinks I’m nuts and says he’s never heard of a light that can go underwater.

  —Elegant Bride in Elon

  Dear Elegant Bride,

  Submersible LED cubes and Floralytes add an unexpected punch of light and color in unlikely places. Vase illuminator bases that provide an uplight through clear vases are also fantastic. Surprise your guests with lighted balloons scattered among helium balloons. They’re a great way to flank an entrance or a buffet table. Visit http://www.save-on-crafts.com/partyideas.html.

  —Natasha

  Tucker closed his eyes, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. I leaned back against the cushion. He had to be protecting someone. Tucker would be the first to rat on someone else if it would keep him out of trouble. Who would he protect? “Hannah?”

  “Yes,” he said drolly, “the bride was running through the house in her wedding gown slashing people.”

  Did he think he was helping Hannah by not mentioning that he saw Craig? “You know that Hannah saw Craig leave the shed.”

  “Like I care about Craig.” He unwound his legs and set his bare feet on the floor. “I can’t imagine what Hannah sees in him. The man is like a bowling pin—smooth, bald, and dull.”

  He stretched out and draped his arms across the back of the settee. “I don’t know what to do but stand trial. They can’t convict me because I didn’t kill him.”

  Tucker had relaxed considerably since I found him. Nothing bothered him for long. He went his merry way in life, unconcerned about consequences. Which made it all the more extraordinary that he would be willing to take the rap for someone else. I ticked through the names of the bridesmaids in my mind. Had he taken up with one of them? Darby! No, she and Kevin clearly had a thing for each other. Phoebe? Now that Phoebe and Joel were arguing, was Tucker such a worm that he would move in on her? But I’d forgotten that Tucker knew Joel and had introduced them. I leaned forward, not three feet from his face. “Joel.”

  The Adam’s apple bobbed again.

  “You saw Joel go into the shed with Stan?”

  “Honestly, Sophie, I really was asleep. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Then I don’t get it. You’re protecting someone, but you hardly know anyone involved.”

  He licked his lips and chewed on the lower one.

  “Spit it out. You know you’re dying to tell someone.”

  He hunched forward, bracing his arms on his knees. “You know about Joel’s family losing their business, right?”

  “And his dad died.”

  “You’re simplifying things. Joel’s dad had a shipment of majorly expensive pink diamonds coming into the country. The kind of stuff they show to customers in private back rooms of the highest-end jewelry companies. Capiche? You know anything about jewelry couriers?”

  “Yes, of course, I buy diamonds by the gross.”

  “Very funny. There are two ways to go. You can hire somebody with an armored van, but there are cats on the lookout for those. The other way is kind of like a spy—you hire someone who blends in and won’t attract any attention, and that’s what Joel’s father did. He contracted with an independent guy he’d used before. The guy goes to Miami to pick up the shipment, but on his way back, when he stops for gas, somebody bashes him over the head—bad, real bad. The cops find his car abandoned, no jewelry inside. But now the courier is paralyzed—permanently disabled, and his family accuses Joel’s dad of setting up the heist and sues him. Between the loss of the diamonds, the lawsuit, and the demise of the family business, his dad was under unbelievable stress and had a coronary.”

  He sat back, satisfied and clearly finished with his sad story.

  I squinted at him. Hannah had lost her engagement ring with the pink diamond before Tucker showed up. Joel must have told him the stone was a pink diamond. “It’s improbable that Hannah’s diamond was one of the stolen ones and, supposing it was, why would Joel kill Stan over it? There must be lots of pink diamonds in the world. When did the robbery take place?”

  “About five years ago.”

  “Oh, right, like the diamonds haven’t changed hands a few times since then? I hardly think they’re sitting in a pot somewhere.”

  His mouth twisted upward on one side. “Rocks like that aren’t easy to unload. You have to hire somebody to break them down into smaller stones if you want to sell them.”

  I couldn’t follow his reasoning. “You think Joel killed Stan and Emily because Craig gave Hannah a pink diamond?” Had he lost his mind? That didn’t make any sense at all.

  “I’ve been following Joel.”

  “Is that why you came here? To spy on Joel?”

  “Of course not. I’ve been a little down on my luck—barred from some casinos. Weddings are good hunting ground for poker games. Failing that, they’re also great places to meet women—and their mothers eager to marry them off.”

  “Aren’t you a little bit ashamed for being such a parasite?”

  “Is that how you see me? I’m not a common thief who would kill for a lousy $5,000.”

  “You took the tiaras.”

  “That’s different. I thought the stones belonged to Joel. Don’t you see, Sophie? I make the women happy, and let’s face it, the men would lose their poker money to someone else if not to me. I provide . . . entertainment and amusement. I bring joy into their lives.”

  “Like moonshine. They’re happy for a short time, and the next day you’re like a nightmarish hangover.”

  “My, but you’ve become cynical since your divorce from Mars.”

  “Me? You’ve lost all semblance of sanity, living off other people’s hopes and thinking Joel killed Stan because of Hannah’s ring.”

  “You don’t know Joel like I do. I’ve seen how he looks at Craig and his family. And then when Craig showed up with those tiaras with pink stones in them, I thought Joel would blow a gasket. In fact, I think he did—that’s when he murdered Stan. Joel must have thought he was avenging his dad and his family.”

  “Not a chance,” I protested. “Joel knew the tiaras were fake. Did you tell the cops your pathetic theory?”

  He rubbed both hands over his face. “I owe Joel’s dad. He pulled me out of some bad messes. The least I can do is save his kid.”

  Joel’s father must have been an impressive person to inspire such loyalty in Tucker. I never would have expected callous Tucker to put himself at risk for anyone else. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as I’d thought all these years.

  With mixed feelings about Tucker, and wondering about Joel, I shoved off to bed.

  In the morning, I was the first one downstairs. I wore a comfortable skort and a sleeveless top that my mother would have approved because the V-neck dipped a skosh lower than usual for me. My ankles, hideous blues and purples, felt much better than they looked. My shoulder had become stiff during the night, but I thought it would loosen up as I moved around.

  I brewed a pot of Hannah’s favorite Mystic Monk coffee, and the heavenly aroma floated through the kitchen immediately.

  Joel emerged from the foyer in shorts and a T-shirt, yawning. “Thanks for putting us up. The hotel was great but a little pricey. Besides, it’s so cool to stay in a house that was here during the Civil War. I can just imagine it. When you watch a movie, it’s all a set. But this is the real thing—living history.”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm. “You’re welcome to co
me for a visit any time.” As soon as the invitation slipped out of my mouth, I wondered if I’d invited a killer. He was so sweet, I figured Tucker’s theory was wrong, but you never know.

  I eased into the topic, hoping I wouldn’t put him on guard. “Tucker told me about your dad and the family business. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” The corners of Joel’s mouth quivered and he seemed like a kid trying to gain control of his emotions. “That was an awful time for us. My mother’s parents worked hard to make their corner jewelry store a success. Losing it was crushing, but when my dad died, that sent us all in a tailspin. My sister and I grew up in the store. We never imagined we would do anything else.”

  “What does your sister do now?”

  “She works at a mall jewelry store.” He shrugged. “It’s a job.”

  “Tucker said the courier went to pick up pink diamonds.” I tossed the line out there casually as I handed him a mug of coffee. “They never showed up anywhere? The jewelry world has to be pretty small when it comes to high-ticket items.”

  “That’s the irony of it all. We would have heard if the stones started turning up anyplace. Those thugs ruined my family and got nothing out of it.”

  If I had been alone, I wouldn’t have asked him the next question, but I had plenty of company in the house. I set sugar and milk on the table and chose my words carefully, so he wouldn’t think I was accusing him of anything. “Do you think the stone in Hannah’s ring came from the robbery?”

  Joel dragged his hands down over his mouth. “I wondered if Craig was involved the minute I saw Hannah’s engagement ring. It’s the kind of stone movie stars and the ridiculously wealthy buy. It’s remotely possible he bought it for her, but I don’t think so.”

  Deep in my heart, I knew anyone could kill, but even though Joel had the strength, there was a softness about him. A gentleness. I could imagine him bouncing a copper-haired baby on his knee and hosting backyard cookouts.

  “Tucker knew about the ring and the heist, too. If you want my opinion, he killed Stan to get revenge for what happened to my father. Tucker and my dad were real close. He thinks Stan was one of the thieves.”

  “You really think Tucker could have killed Stan?”

  “I don’t want to believe it. But Tucker’s always been a bit of an enigma, and it’s hard to know what someone might be capable of. There is a lot that points to him. Motive, means, opportunity. And just between the two of us, I didn’t see him sleeping in the sunroom.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  From “THE GOOD LIFE ONLINE”:

  Need flowers in a hurry? Buy pots of fresh gerbera daisy plants at your local grocery store. Available nearly year-round, they come in gorgeous, vibrant colors, and all you have to do is use your imagination to disguise the pots.

  —Sophie Winston

  I nearly dropped my mug of coffee as I listened. I’d thought Joel could give Tucker an alibi, but instead he was practically convicting him.

  When Hannah bounced into the kitchen moments later, she was wearing a vivid turquoise top and white trousers that belonged to me but made my bottom look like a hot air balloon. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked as she swept by me.

  Mind? She could have them. They were darling on her.

  She poured a cup of coffee and swung her long hair to the other shoulder, revealing that she wore my earrings as well.

  “I’m so glad that I don’t have to dress in pastels anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I like pastels, but I’m not into being demure.”

  Daisy pawed at the door. I’d been so excited to have a chance to chat with Joel, I’d forgotten to let her out. I started to open the kitchen door for her and remembered that she wasn’t supposed to run in the backyard. What a bother.

  “Humphrey’s not up yet?” asked Hannah.

  “Humphrey?”

  “He intended to sleep in his hearse out on the street, so I told him he could crash in the den. I knew you wouldn’t mind. I should wake him.”

  “Hannah, be careful. Humphrey’s liable to think you’re in love with him.” I took my coffee mug and opened the door for Daisy. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. How do waffles sound for breakfast?”

  I thought Joel might drool just thinking about it.

  Even though I knew the backyard was off limits, I ducked under the yellow tape to look around. “Be very careful, Daisy, we’re not supposed to be back here.” She wagged her tail like I’d told her a joke and trotted off toward the rear of the yard. I sipped my coffee and gazed at the chaos. Shepherd’s hooks full of bright gerbera daisies still lined the runner and the empty white chairs remained in formation like good little soldiers, but the flowers on Natasha’s heart-shaped wreath had wilted, along with the blossoms on the wedding arch.

  Wolf had allowed the ice bar to be broken down and removed, but the little carpet that I’d thrown over the spot where Natasha’s sculpture broke remained. I’d forgotten all about the ill-fated cupid.

  After a glance around, I ambled to the potting shed, stepped inside, and tried to imagine what had transpired. Idly, I pulled up the top of the cooler that contained bits of the cupid. The chunks of ice had melted into water. I flipped open the other cooler. Floating on top with tiny melting pieces lay a boutonniere box. The white rose inside was as crisp and fresh as it must have been on Hannah’s wedding day. The cops must have seen it, but it probably hadn’t meant anything to them. It was just another piece of wedding froufrou on ice to keep cool. But what if the person distributing the boutonnieres had gotten into a fight with someone, wound up with an extra one, and had to hide the evidence? I knew who had taken charge of the boutonnieres. I knew who might have wanted to drop Stan’s boutonniere into the cooler to hide it. I knew whose fingerprints would be on the box. Robert.

  I slammed the cooler shut and rushed to the house. Daisy, sensing excitement, romped along. I flew through the kitchen to the telephone and called Wolf.

  The woman who answered the phone said, “Look honey, somebody has got to tell you that Wolf just isn’t the kind of guy you can pursue this way. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you have to be more subtle.”

  Doing my best to control my temper, I said, “Tell him Robert killed Stan. I’m certain of it.”

  “Give it up, honey. That’s not the way to win him over.”

  I hung up, not knowing if she would tell him or not. When I turned, I realized my houseguests were staring at me.

  “What happened? How do you know that?” asked Humphrey, his white hair tousled from sleep.

  I told them about the boutonniere box.

  Tucker lifted his mug to me like a toast. “Bravo! But that’s hardly evidence.”

  “Does the name Franchini mean anything to you?”

  They gazed at one another.

  I didn’t wait. I dashed to the den for Darby’s phone. It didn’t have much of a charge left. I pushed buttons until I managed to find the number of the last caller. I scurried back to the kitchen and surveyed my options. Hannah, Tucker, Humphrey, and I sounded like southerners. That left Joel and Phoebe.

  Explaining that I wanted him to find out what he could about Donata or Tony Franchini, I pushed a button and the phone dialed the number of the last caller.

  Like a champ, Joel said, “Hey. I’m looking for Donata. She there?”

  He shook his head indicating no.

  “I heard she’s with Tony.”

  We all heard the shriek that spewed from the phone. A woman’s voice screeched, “She’s back with her ex? When did he show up?”

  “Hey, you know how I can get in touch with Tony or Donata? I’ve got a delivery for them that I know they want.”

  He motioned for a pen and I handed him a pen and paper.

  “Her mom?” He scribbled a number on the pad, along with the name Mrs. Pietra. He thanked her and hung up. Seeming to enjoy himself, he promptly dialed the new number.

  “Mrs. Pietra? I’m a friend of Donata’s. We were planning to go out tonight and I have to c
ancel, but I can’t find her and I don’t want to leave her standing out on the street waiting for me.”

  A silence followed. Joel grinned. “Yes, I promise I’ll pick her up next time.”

  Another silence, but Joel began to scribble again. The rest of us hunched forward, hoping to hear what her mother was saying.

  “Thank you. You have a nice day, Mrs. Pietra.”

  Joel hung up and tapped the paper. “It seems that Donata went to a wedding over the weekend with Constanzo and Roberto.”