Dead Man's Diamonds: A Piece of Cake Mystery (Piece of Cake Mysteries Book 1)

by A. R. Winters

  I murmured in agreement, and Beth said, “So, that night at John’s Bistro. How long did you say you were there?”

  Elaine stopped applying lotion, sat up straight, and looked at us. “Have you two gone and talked to John?”

  Beth nodded. “Why did you lie to us?”

  Elaine rolled her eyes. “Look, the cops never followed up on my story. I told them I’d been having dinner at John’s Bistro, and I didn’t mention times. I said I was there till late. But when you two showed up, I guess I panicked a little. I’m sick of talking about Tim’s death. Really, I haven’t seen him in ages, other than when he stole my macaron recipe. I wish I’d never met that man.”

  “But you’re still wearing the earrings he gave you,” Beth pointed out, glancing at Elaine’s ears.

  Her hands flew up to touch them. “Oh, these,” she said. “Diamonds don’t have a memory.”

  I said, “I thought you sold all the stuff he gave you to raise money for your business.”

  “I kept this one pair. A girl needs nice earrings.”

  Beth and I exchanged a glance, and I said, “But you know, you made up this thing about having an alibi. It looks really bad for you.”

  Elaine shook her head, poured out some more lotion, and began applying it to her arms. “Look, I know you need a scapegoat, but I had nothing to do with Tim’s death. Why aren’t you questioning Wendy and Rex?”

  “We have,” said Beth.

  Elaine said, “So you know that they’re dating?”

  I looked at Elaine for a few seconds and blinked. “Dating?” I repeated stupidly. “What do you mean?”

  “I went wine tasting the weekend before last, up in the Yarraz Valley, and saw them canoodling in one of the wineries.”

  “Weekend before last?” I did some quick math in my head.

  “That’s just before Tim died,” Beth said.

  “I know,” said Elaine. “And I’m pretty sure they’ve been together for a while.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Elaine shrugged. “Wendy apparently didn’t care that her husband was cheating on her, which means she must’ve had her own way of coping with it. Rex and Wendy sure had lots of chances to meet up and get to know each other.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said slowly. I thought back to the way Wendy had smiled when she’d talked about Rex, and the fact that Rex was fully aware of Tim’s philandering ways. Rex had called Wendy beautiful and intelligent and said that she was too good for Tim. I should’ve seen this coming. “But why would Wendy have an affair with Rex, of all people?”

  “Why do people ever do stuff?” said Elaine. “Wendy probably thought she was following her heart. Look, I’ve got nothing to gain from Tim’s death. But Wendy did. If Tim found out about the affair, he might’ve changed his will to give her less money, maybe changed the beneficiary of his life insurance. And with Tim out of the picture, Wendy’s got both his money and her lover.”

  She had a point. I turned to Beth and said, “I guess you’re doing a lot more driving today.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We called Wendy, but she said she was at work and didn’t have time to talk until her lunch break. So we went over to her office on the north end of Main Street. The area was packed with insurance offices, financial advisory firms, and investment services. The accounting firm that Wendy worked at was near a salad bar, and Beth and I waited for her there. The salad bar was well-lit and airy, with white cafeteria-style tables and chairs. Most of the diners were female, and most of them seemed to work nearby.

  At five minutes past one, Wendy walked in, saw us, and grabbed a meal before sitting down opposite us.

  “You’re not eating?” Wendy asked as she dug into her chicken Waldorf salad.

  “Not a fan of salad,” said Beth, speaking for the both of us. “Thanks for meeting us.”

  “No prob,” said Wendy, digging into her food like she was ravenous. She was wearing a white blouse, a knee-length gray pencil skirt, and two-inch heels. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and her makeup was muted and tasteful. “I don’t have much time, though. I’m supposed to finish up a report today.”

  “Then we’ll just ask you,” Beth said. “Tim’s former partner, Rex. Were you having an affair with him?”

  Wendy paused, her salad-laden fork hovering midair. And then she put the fork down, leaned back, and looked at us carefully. “How did you find out?”

  I was surprised that she didn’t bother to deny it, but then again, maybe she wasn’t too concerned about our knowledge.

  “We have our ways,” I said, not wanting to rat out Elaine. “We find out everything eventually.” I thought back to the rotund, talkative Rex and wondered what Elaine saw in him. “Why Rex?”

  Elaine shrugged. “He was a gentleman. Treated me well. Never interested in other women and looked at me like I was a princess. Like nobody else would compare. And in the sack—oh. Wow. Let’s just say he tried hard.”

  I tried not to smirk like an immature high schooler, and Beth said, “But what about all the stuff Tim got you? The trips overseas—and the jewelry. I thought you said ‘diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’”

  “Sure,” said Wendy, digging into her salad again. “They are a girl’s best friend. But they can’t keep you warm at night.”

  “And Tim knew?”

  Wendy shrugged. “I don’t think he cared. He might’ve suspected I was with someone, but he didn’t know it was Rex. And really, as long as I didn’t ask him who his current squeeze was, I think he was just happy I left him alone.”

  “But you never considered just leaving Tim and dating Rex?”

  Wendy shrugged. “I enjoyed being with Tim.”

  “All those diamond earrings and trips to Paris,” said Beth. “They’d go away if you got divorced.”

  Wendy narrowed her eyes and chewed her salad deliberately. “Yeah.”

  “Whereas, now that Tim’s dead,” said Beth, “you’ve got both Tim’s cash and Rex’s loving.”

  Wendy said, “You don’t really think I’d kill my husband just to avoid divorcing him? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Both you and Rex hated Tim,” I pointed out.

  “And half the people of Santa Verona,” Wendy said. “But I don’t see you going around and insinuating that they killed him.”

  “You don’t think,” I said, trying to phrase my words delicately, “that perhaps Rex was just with you because he was trying to get back at Tim?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re both adults, okay? I don’t care how it started. But Rex was good to me. And that’s all that matters.”

  “So you’re still with him?”

  Wendy nodded. “We’ll keep it a secret for a little longer.”

  “Yeah,” said Beth. “Because if people found out, they might think that you killed Tim.”

  Wendy put her fork down and glared at us. “Yes, because people are gossipy and mean. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to finish.”

  She left her half-eaten salad on the table, stood up, and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Beth and I weren’t too thrilled with the way things had turned out with Wendy, and the sight of all those people chomping away on their lunches around us was making us hungry. So we stopped by my mom’s place to eat and regroup.

  “You guys really failed at meeting men last night,” Aunt Kira said when she saw us. “How is it that you got no phone numbers?”

  “There’s no one our age here,” said Beth. “Everyone’s either a college student or a retiree.”

  “That’s kind of true,” Aunt Kira admitted. “Maybe you could move.”

  Aunt Kira, Beth and I helped my mother set the table, and Mom groaned at Aunt Kira’s words. “Not again,” she said. “Mindy’s already moved. Twice. And that didn’t do her any good.”

  “That’s true,” said Aunt Kira. We served ourselves pasta marinara from the kitchen and settled in around the table
. “You’ve lived in Hollywood, but you never met anyone there. All those handsome actors…”

  “They’re just full of themselves,” I told her. “The famous ones are too in love with themselves, and the ones who hadn’t become famous yet just tried to use me. They thought I could help them get on the show, which, of course, never worked.”

  “Well,” Aunt Kira said. There was a moment’s silence as we all dug into our food, and then Aunt Kira continued, “Maybe I can find some nice men to set you up with.”

  “No!” Beth and I chimed simultaneously.

  My mother gave us a disapproving look. “That might not be such a bad idea.”

  “You two need to live a little,” said Aunt Kira. “Do impulsive stuff. Have fun.”

  “We do have fun,” I told her. “And when was the last time you did something impulsive?”

  Aunt Kira shrugged. “I’m over sixty. You girls need to take more risks.”

  Beth and I looked at each other and smirked.

  “We work as investigators,” I reminded Aunt Kira. “That’s impulsive and risky enough.”

  “For now,” she said, not wanting to concede her point.

  I saw Aunt Kira and Mom exchange a glance, and I knew we wouldn’t evade their matchmaking schemes for long.

  ***

  We got home to find the light on my answering machine blinking. I pressed play, and there was no message—just a lot of heavy breathing. The message sent goosebumps running up my arms. I knew it was from the same person who’d sent me that letter, and though there were no words being spoken, the breathing was enough to be an ominous threat.

  I glanced at Pixie, who was happily preening her feathers, and gave her a nut. She chewed it thoughtfully, looking at me from time to time, and I decided to try the harness we’d found in Tim’s café. She stepped into it effortlessly, lifting her wings slightly so that I could fit the harness properly. The harness went under Pixie’s wings and across her chest, and I could hold the other end, just like a dog’s leash. The length of the “leash” part of the harness meant that I could take Pixie outside, and she could fly around without my worrying that she’d get lost.

  I sent Beth a text instead, inviting her over to my place, and showed her Pixie’s harness.

  I lifted the harness off Pixie after a while, and she went to play on her play stand, busily attacking one of her toys.

  “Let’s watch the recordings from Tim’s café’s surveillance camera,” I told Beth. I didn’t feel like hanging out in my apartment alone, but I didn’t want to tell her about the creepy answering machine message. “We might pick up something we missed the first time around.”

  “We should also talk to Rex,” Beth reminded me. “It was really suspicious, the way Wendy just stalked out of the café. Maybe she and Rex did something together.”

  We debated between going to see Rex first and watching the surveillance footage. But when we called Rex to make an appointment, he said he wasn’t free till the evening. So we set a time to see him and settled in to view the recordings.

  The surveillance camera above the entrance to Tim’s café was pretty useless, more of a deterrent to potential thieves than an actual security device. It captured images of people entering the café but was set at an angle that also monitored a part of the sidewalk.

  Beth and I set the speed to three times the usual and sat through interminable hours of footage of people coming and going. I was about to zone out when I noticed something unusual.

  “Hang on,” I said. “Isn’t that Simon?”

  We went back to a few minutes prior and set the speed to normal. Sure enough, it was Simon. He paced back and forth in front of the café for a while, and then he seemed to pause and look inside. We expected him to go inside, but instead, he turned around and left.

  “That was odd,” Beth said. “But it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he just wanted to have a look at the place he wanted to buy.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But…this is a bit odd. I can’t explain it, but…we seem to keep running into him. Something’s off.”

  “And on top of that,” Beth added, “he never talked to Whitney about maybe buying her steakhouse. All the other buyers asked Whitney for a price so they could compare the two.”

  “Perhaps Simon was only interested in buying Tim’s place?”

  “If you’re a businessman,” Beth said, “you’d only be interested in your return. So Whitney’s place might not be as profitable, but you’d still be interested if it cost less money to buy.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I agreed. “All the other buyers were more businesslike. Maybe Simon had some other reason for wanting to buy Tim’s place?”

  “Or maybe,” said Beth, “he never intended to buy any place? Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to get to know Tim better, maybe learn something about him and his café? We should try to find out what’s he up to, right?”

  I nodded, and Beth fired up my laptop and did a quick Google search for “Simon Macchio,” but nothing came up.

  “Maybe he’s got a record,” Beth suggested. “Maybe someone at the station can help us.”

  It was worth a shot, and Beth and I headed over to the Santa Verona Police Department, hoping to meet a kind soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The kind soul turned out to be Detective Matt Alvarez, whose face lit up when he saw Beth.

  “How’s the investigation going?” he asked us. “You two find anything interesting?”

  “Maybe,” Beth said, smiling back at him. “Where’s Ethan?”

  “Off interviewing a suspect on another case,” said Matt. “Did you want to talk to him?”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “We’re just here to see you.”

  We told him our suspicions about Simon, and he promised to run a check. “But even if there is something,” Matt said, “it’s probably not related to anything.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But why does he keep popping up?”

  Matt shrugged. “He likes eating at Sara’s, and he wants to buy Tim’s café. Makes sense to me.”

  There was a few minutes’ silence as he typed in Simon’s name, and then he frowned. “It says here that he’s got a record,” said Matt slowly. “Quite a long one, too.”

  “What’s the latest thing?” Beth asked.

  “Convicted two years ago for aggravated assault on a police officer.” Matt clicked a few more buttons and read through the report. “The short version is, he was at a bar, drinking. Got into a fight, and an undercover police officer tried to break it up. Simon punched him in the face, then pulled a gun on him. He went to prison for two years. Released last month.”

  A chill ran through my bones, and I looked at Beth. She looked as worried as I felt.

  I said, “How can a man who’s just been released from prison afford to buy a popular café?”

  “Maybe he had some savings,” Beth said, but her voice was pinched and worried.

  Matt was watching the two of us closely. We sat in silence for a few seconds, and then Matt said, “The rest of his record’s not too bad. A bunch of arrests, but no recent convictions, other than the aggravated assault. Oh wait, there’s one more conviction.”

  “What happened?”

  “Eight years ago, Simon was convicted for burglary. He and a partner stole a flat-screen TV, two DVD players, and some petty cash from a house on Moonlake Street. Simon was released after eight months for good behavior.”

  “What’s on his arrest record?” I asked, wondering if I was better off not knowing.

  “A couple of assaults,” said Matt. “Disorderly conduct, one carjacking. But in each case, there wasn’t enough evidence to make a conviction.”

  “But apparently the good behavior didn’t last long,” Beth quipped.

  Mike smiled wanly. “Just because he was arrested so often doesn’t mean that he committed all the crimes.”

  “But there’s a chance that he did,” said Beth. “With all those arrests, it might
only mean that there wasn’t enough evidence to get him sentenced.”

  “He’s clearly got a temper,” I added, thinking of the broken café chairs, wondering what they meant. “And for his latest crime, he beat up a cop.”

  Matt shook his head. “The cop was undercover. Your man had no way of knowing. And he was inebriated.”

  I took a deep breath and looked at Beth. “Simon’s got a hot temper, he works for a building company, and he could easily get access to a sledgehammer.”

  Beth nodded. “It sounds possible, but there’s no motive there. Besides, Simon has a conviction for burglary. Whoever broke into the café didn’t touch the cash in the till.”

  “It is more like a crime of passion,” I agreed. “Ignoring the cash in the registers and breaking chairs instead.”

  We said goodbye to Matt somberly, thanking him for his help. Although Simon had a record, he didn’t seem to be interested in killing people, nor did he benefit from Tim’s death. On the other hand, Tim’s death meant that Wendy and Rex were both better off now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rex glanced up from typing away on his computer when we walked in. “I’ll be ready to talk in a minute,” he said, and then he went on typing for a good twenty minutes.

  “Now,” he said, finally having run out of things to type, “how can I help you?”

  He leaned back in his swivel chair and eyed us coldly, crossing his arms across his chest. He didn’t look half as friendly as he had the day before, and Beth said, “We know about you and Wendy.”

  Rex shrugged. “So?”

  His eyes were cold, and he wasn’t his usual talkative self. Beth looked at me and gave me a help! look, so I said gently, “We don’t mean to be rude. But Wendy told us about you two.”

  “I heard,” said Rex, narrowing his eyes at me. “I told her to keep it quiet, but she had to go around telling everyone.”

  “She didn’t quite go around telling everyone. Just us two.”

  Rex snorted. “Women. You can never count on them. They never stop talking.”