M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2)

by Anita Rodgers

  They stopped straining to get loose and studied me. "Who are you?" Katy asked.

  I shook Katy's hand and then I shook Chelsea's hand. "I'm Scotti. Do you want to see the cake? I can show it to you, if you promise to be very gentle." The girls grinned and nodded. I took them into the dining room. They climbed up on chairs to get a better view. "What do you think? Will your daddy and mommy like it?"

  "We love it!" Ginny said from the doorway. Tom's wife was a pretty strawberry blonde with blue eyes, freckles and a quick grin. “It’s gorgeous!”

  I blushed and waved. "Sorry, I meant to be out front when you got here."

  Ginny rushed into the room and hugged me. "Thank you so much for doing this." She stepped back and admired the cake. "It's just amazing. And it's so nice to finally meet you."

  I smiled. "And you."

  Soon the whole party crowded into the dining room, oohing, and ahhing over the cake. Eyes wide. Phones snapping pictures. From across the room, Ted winked and blew me a kiss.

  It looked like my baker’s license and apron were safe. Satisfied I'd accomplished my goal, I drifted into the background and let Tom and Ginny have the spotlight. They were cute together and Tom came to life in the presence of his wife and kids.

  While the party hit full bore inside, I hid in Melinda's impeccable rose garden. I'd never seen so many perfectly tended rose bushes in my life, and some of the varieties I'd never seen at all.

  The sun was a warm kiss on my bare arms, and I sat on a garden bench watching bees and butterflies hover. Eventually Ted would miss me and come looking. But I was content to let him enjoy his family without having to run interference for me.

  Except a couple of members of the clan had other ideas. Chelsea and Katy appeared in the garden with curious eyes and furrowed brows. Katy sat on the bench next to me. "Why are you all by yourself?"

  I tousled her golden curls. "I like the quiet."

  Katy sighed and rested her little head on my arm. "Me too. Grown-ups are noisy."

  Chelsea climbed up on the bench and leaned on my other arm. "Me too." And we all watched the bee and butterfly ballet in the rose garden in blissful silence.

  After a while, I sensed Ginny was wondering where her little munchkins had gone, and we left our serene garden spot. Holding hands, we walked through the French doors into the library. As we came inside Ted met us with a grin. “Hi honey."

  Ginny came through the library door and said to the girls, "I've been looking all over for you."

  The girls ran to their mother.

  "They were in the garden with me. We were just coming to find you."

  Ginny hugged her daughters and I felt a pang — I'd never have little girls who came running when I called. But maybe I'd have nieces who'd sit on a garden bench with me and hold my hand once in a while.

  Ginny flashed a smile. "We're ready to cut into that glorious cake. Come on." The girls jumped and clapped their hands, then ran ahead of Ginny as she walked toward the dining room.

  Ted remained where he was, still grinning.

  "What?" He pulled me into an embrace, and I nestled there while people partied in the next room. I didn't need a party, I had Ted. I looked up at him. "What's with the goofy grin?"

  He kissed me softly. "I don't know, I guess you make me goofy happy."

  I laughed. "Why? Did I do something right for once?"

  He squeezed me tight. "Just you being you. That's all."

  Steve walked into the room and stopped when he saw me. "Uh, Scotti? They want you to come help with the cake."

  I laughed. "It's okay, Steve. I won't bite you."

  His eyes remained cautious, and he took a couple of steps toward us. "We're good?"

  I hooked one arm through Ted's and the other through Steve's and walked them toward the door. "Let's eat cake."

  Upon entering the dining room, I was transformed from an obligatory guest to the star chef. The cake stood on the table untouched because no one had the courage to make the first cut. Understandable since you have to know what you're doing to cut a tiered cake without collapsing it or making it look ugly.

  With a flourish, I removed the first tier and placed it on a platter. "This layer is just for Tom and Ginny." I winked. "For the private party you'll have later no doubt." The crowd giggled. Even Tom cracked a smile. Then with the deftness of hands that have sliced thousands of pieces of cake, I served up the goods.

  Champagne was uncorked, toasts were made, cake was eaten and the party revived into a louder, happier affair. When Matt's band set up and the patio was transformed into a dance floor, I drifted back inside.

  I cozied into a big leather chair in the library. Soon enough, my pint-sized friends found me again and asked for a story. Three pages in to the Velveteen Rabbit, they were asleep on the chaise. I covered them with a soft throw and tiptoed to the door. Melinda's face smiled back at me when I opened it.

  I pointed to the girls and whispered. "They're asleep. I was just going to find Ginny."

  Melinda stepped past me into the room. "I'll wait here for her then." I nodded and turned to leave. "Scotti?"

  I turned back. "Yes?"

  "Thank you."

  "Sure. You're welcome." I left the room, wondering why Melinda had thanked me. For watching her grandchildren? For making the cake? For not screwing up her party? It was anybody's guess.

  I found Ted roaming the hallway. "Looking for me?"

  He took my hand, and laced his fingers through mine. "I think it's safe to leave if you're ready?"

  I nodded and rested my head on his arm. "Yes, please."

  We did a round of quick goodbyes and made for the door. But Ginny and Tom caught us before we exited. Ginny hugged me five times before she let go. Even Tom gave me a stiff-armed hug and a pat on the back. “Thanks again, Scotti.”

  When we closed the door behind us I said, “Who knew that one cake could generate such goodwill?”

  Ted smiled. “Some of us knew.”

  I nudged him toward the car, anxious to kick off my heels and free my feet.

  Melinda called from behind us. "Scotti?"

  I forced a smile and turned to her. "Yes, Melinda?"

  Her designer heels clicked against the pavers as she hurried down the walk to us. "I didn't want you to leave without saying good bye."

  Ted pinched my ass just to taunt me. "Oh. That's nice." I held out my hand. "Thanks for inviting me, I had a good time."

  Melinda ignored my outstretched hand and hugged me. "We're family now. And family hugs." She squeezed me against her ample breasts. “Okay?”

  I patted her back and said, "Okay, hugs it is."

  When Melinda let me go, she smiled at us. "All right you two love birds get out of here and enjoy your evening." She gave Ted a bear hug and a loud pat on the back. The first strains of "Born to be Wild," arose from the backyard and Melinda laughed. "They're playing my song." She turned and rushed back to the house, waving as she went.

  I laughed. "Born to be Wild?"

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  After he rescued me from my dress, Ted and I enjoyed the hell out of our evening. Lying in his arms, I frowned at my belly. I looked up at him. "Am I getting fat?"

  Without looking at me he said, "No. Absolutely not."

  His instant response made me laugh. "Some woman has trained you well."

  He pushed back my hair and kissed my neck. "When we were little guys, Mom taught us about the five questions and the proper responses."

  I jerked back my head. "The what?"

  He held up a finger. "How do I look? Answer. You look great, beautiful, gorgeous." He held up a second finger. "Do I look fat in these pants, skirt or dress? Answer. No." He held up a third finger. "Is she prettier than me? Answer. You're the most beautiful girl I ever met." He held up a fourth finger. "Am I getting fat? Answer. No. Absolutely not." He held up his thumb. "Do you still think about your old girlfriend? Answer. You're the only girl I ever think about." He grinned at me. "There are variations on the
theme but those are the basics."

  I propped up on my elbow. "So lies are better than the truth?"

  He turned on his side and propped up on his elbow. "Ah, trick question. Answer. Just because I know the correct answer, doesn't mean it isn't true. You know I'd never lie to you."

  I rolled onto my back and laughed. "I have to hand it to her, Melinda schooled you well." I turned to him. "Then you ruined all her hard work by picking me."

  He pulled me back into his arms. "She wasn't blowing smoke up your ass tonight. She meant what she said."

  I smirked. "How do you know that?"

  "Because I know when my mother is being polite and when she's being honest." He kissed me. "Take the victory, honey. You won her over fair and square."

  My stomach growled. I wriggled out of his embrace and propped against the headboard. "Yeah but how did I win her fair and square?"

  He sat up and swung his legs to the floor. "You've been growing on her for a while." He grinned. "But that cake closed the deal. How’d you get the picture on the cookie?

  I rolled out of bed, fished Ted's shirt from the floor and threw it on. "Chef's secret. Let's eat."

  Ted pulled on his shorts. "All that food at the party and you didn't you eat?" He frowned. "Your appetite still out of whack?"

  I shrugged and padded to the door. "I'll see you out there." As I passed through the living room, the message light on the answering machine caught my eye. "Shit!"

  Ted came up behind me. "What?" I pointed to the answering machine. His jaw tightened and he said, "If it's from him, that's it. I'm handling this shit myself. And it won’t be pretty. You read me?"

  I swallowed hard and nodded. "Copy that."

  Ted hit PLAY. "Top of the evening, Miss Scotti. If you're there, pick up." Pause. "Dang it. Call me when you get this."

  I blew out a big sigh. "Just ornery old Joe." Giddy with relief, I danced the rest of the way to the kitchen. “Joe with a hair up his butt.”

  "You're not going to call him back?"

  "If it's important he'll call again." My cell phone buzzed on the butcher-block. "That's probably him." I answered the call. "Hello?"

  Mike's gravelly voice sounded in my ear. "Ma'am?"

  My eyes darted to the doorway. Cupping the phone I said, "Mike? Where are you? Where have you been?"

  "He's got eyes on you. He's watching."

  "Who? Beidemeyer?"

  "Jody."

  "Who's Jody?"

  "Stay with the Cap."

  "Who's Jody? What's his name?"

  "We got your six, ma'am." The call ended.

  I tossed the phone on the counter. "Damn it!"

  "What did Mike want?" Ted leaned against the doorway scowling.

  I held out my hands and shrugged. "You know Mike. He talks in riddles."

  Ted walked into the kitchen and nudged me onto a stool. "What did he say, exactly?"

  I threw up my hands. "He said Jody had eyes on me and they had my six." I smirked. "See what I mean? Gibberish."

  Ted shook his head. "Not if you understand the code. Beidemeyer is tracking you, and they're tracking him. They're telling you to leave it alone and stay put. He'll call you again if the risk factor increases. They've got your back."

  "But who's Jody?" I waved a hand at him. "I know it's Army slang for an adulterer but who is it?"

  "Beidemeyer. He was sleeping with Ron's wife, right?"

  I nodded. "Then why didn't Mike confirm it? He knows Beidemeyer’s name. Why not confirm it?"

  He ran a finger along my arm. "Are you going to take his advice? Stick close? Stay out of it?"

  I dragged my hands through my hair. "Why does everybody need to box me into a corner? I don’t know what I’ll do. Besides, I’m too busy deciphering code.” The adrenaline dump made my stomach ache. I slid off my stool and opened the fridge. "Is there any leftover Chinese?" I pushed containers and bottles aside looking for something appealing. I settled on a leftover baked potato.

  "Non-linear thinking."

  I looked up from the microwave. "What?" I punched in a timed reheat and started the microwave.

  "Mike doesn't think like us." Ted rotated a finger. "Brain circuits out of whack."

  The microwave beeped, and I carried my potato back to the butcher-block. A little salt and pepper and I forked off a bite. "But he wasn’t always, right? When you knew him in the support group?"

  Ted shrugged then eyed the potato. "Plain? No butter? No sour cream?"

  The potato was dry as carpet lint and stuck to the roof of my mouth. "No matter how well you lie, I am getting fat. No surprise since I've been living on ice cream and pie for weeks. I haven't cooked since Zelda left." I stared down at the potato. "So, it's time for discipline and willpower." I waved a fork-speared clod of potato at him. "Do you know how many calories there are in butter and sour cream?" I popped the potato chunk into my mouth — struggling to chew and swallow. "A lot, that's how many."

  Ted jumped off his stool and grabbed a bottle of club soda from the fridge. He handed it to me. "Drink this before you choke."

  I chugged down half the bottle. "Thanks."

  I forked off another bite, but Ted stopped me from putting it in my mouth. "How about you start your discipline tomorrow and we go to Jimmy Dean's for a burger tonight?"

  I dropped the fork onto the plate. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  We idled in the drive-through lane behind three other cars. My mouth watered in anticipation of a double chili-cheeseburger with a side of fried zucchini and a chocolate shake. I'd barely get half of it down, but Ted would step up and finish it for me.

  When we finally got to the window, Ted and the cashier made the food and money exchange, while I slouched and looked out the window. A black BMW parked in the tiny lot got my attention. Though there were occasional Beemer sightings in Sunland, I'd never seen one in Jimmy Dean's parking lot. I buzzed down the window to get a better look. The car's engine wasn't on but the driver sat in his seat, watching in the rearview mirror. Could Beidemeyer be that bold?

  Ted got his change and extra napkins then pulled out onto Foothill. I watched in the side view mirror to see if the Beemer followed. At first, it seemed I was mistaken, but when we braked at the red light at McVine, I spotted the BMW two cars back. I stuck my head out and craned my neck.

  "What are you doing?"

  I pulled my head back inside the car. The light turned green and Ted turned onto McVine. Putting my hand on his arm, I said, "Don't freak out, but I think Beidemeyer is following us."

  Ted stared in the rearview mirror. "What?"

  I grasped his arm. "Don't do anything crazy. I'm not sure it's him."

  Ted's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles glowed white in the dashboard lights. "Is that him behind us?"

  My gaze was locked on the side mirror. "It's too dark, all I see are headlights."

  "Scotti if it's him I'm…"

  "Please Ted, take a breath. We don’t know if it’s him."

  Through clenched teeth, he said, "I could just slam on my brakes and…"

  "And what? Give both of us whiplash? And what if it's some old lady out for her Saturday night drive? You want to hurt somebody?"

  Ted paused at the stop sign and turned left — the opposite direction of home. The car stayed with us. At the next stop sign, Ted turned left again, heading back toward Foothill.

  I stared at him. "Where are you going? What are you doing?"

  Ted checked the rear view mirror. "Baiting the trap." He turned left onto the street that ran behind Starbucks' parking lot. Slowly he pulled into the lot and drove to the front. The Beemer followed us through and parked by the auto supply store. Ted pulled into a spot about twenty feet away. He jabbed a finger at me. "Stay in the car."

  I grabbed his arm. "Ted!"

  "For once Scotti, do what I tell you and stay in the damn car. And lock the doors." He jumped out of the car, then slammed his door shut. I cra
wled into the driver's seat and buzzed down the window.

  Ted stormed to the BMW and yanked the driver's door open. He bent down to speak to the driver. I couldn't hear the words, but I heard the threat in them. Slowly Beidemeyer eased out of the car with his arms partially raised. Ted grabbed Beidemeyer by his shirt and shoved him against the car. His face inches from Beidemeyer's, Ted issued orders to the man like he was schooling a new recruit. The words barely discernible and more like a growl than a language, but I got the message and so did Beidemeyer.