“Of course,” I said. “I understand. Although I’m not really good at gardening.”
“People who aren’t good at gardening pay my bills,” said George, grinning at us. “What can I help you with?”
“We’re looking into Celeste’s death.”
George nodded. “I heard about that. Heard the woman who supplied the cakes poisoned her with a walnut.”
Beside me, Beth stiffened slightly. “I supplied the cakes,” she said.
“Oh?” George turned to look at her, a newfound respect in his eyes. “Well, good for you.”
Beth said, “I didn’t kill her!”
“Right.” George winked broadly. “But your cakes did.”
Beth shook her head. “No. That wasn’t my cake. Someone replaced the cake in the kitchen. The cake I made didn’t have walnuts in it.”
“Oh.” George looked at her, confused. “But I heard they arrested someone.”
“You heard wrong,” I said, interrupting Beth before she could explain how useless Detective Buchanan was. “We’re trying to find out who really killed Celeste.”
“Well,” said George slowly, “if someone replaced the cake, it was whoever replaced it.”
I looked at George closely. As we spoke, he pulled out green shoots from the ground, which I assumed were weeds. “Did you see anyone replace the cake?”
George shook his head. “You just told me they did.”
I sighed. He didn’t seem smart enough to kill Celeste, let alone help us find out who did it. “You knew they were going to have carrot cake for dessert, right?”
He nodded. “Sure. Celeste was talking about it at lunch on Friday. I was working just outside the window, so I heard her talking all about it.”
“Did you like working for Celeste?”
“She yelled at me a couple of times for not making the roses bloom enough. Like that was my fault. But after that, I never saw her much,” said George. “I kept out of her way.”
“Really? She didn’t want to chat with you?” George was good-looking, in a manly, outdoorsy kind of way. Celeste might’ve been interested in a dalliance with yet another gardener.
“She was friendly at first,” said George. “But then I told her I was gay. I guess she didn’t like gay people much.”
Beth and I exchanged an aha! glance, and I said, “No, she preferred her gardeners to be into women. Not that she was a homophobe,” I added quickly. “Just that she liked men she could sleep with.”
“Well,” said George, “doesn’t bother me. Like I said, I do my job, and then I move on.”
“How long’ve you been working here?”
“For this house? A month and a half now. Come to think of it, the housekeeper. Helen. She did warn me about Celeste. Said not to talk to her much. That the last gardener had gotten too friendly with her and gotten fired. I guess it makes sense now.”
Beth and I exchanged another glance, and I wondered if his “dumb ol’ me” act really was just an act.
“Did you know much about Celeste?” Beth asked. “Did you know if anyone might’ve wanted to hurt her?”
“Nah,” said George. “I hear lots of people hated her.”
“What about Howard?” I asked. “What was he like?”
“He was all right.”
“How do you mean?”
“Look,” said George, “I never really saw him much. I work out here. Sometimes, Howard works from home like he’s doing today, but he never bothers me. Not too interested in gardens. That’s fine by me. I get paid to do the gardens.”
“And what about his relationship with Celeste?” I said. “Did you ever see them arguing?”
“Sure,” said George. “All the time. Those two would fight, fight, fight. But it’s none of my business what a man says to his wife. Or what she says to him.”
“Did Howard ever threaten Celeste?”
“How d’you mean?”
“Like, saying he’d kill her or hurt her?”
“Nah.” George shook his head. “He wasn’t that kinda man. Sometimes I heard him say he’d leave her, but he never did, did he?”
“No,” I said. “He didn’t have to.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Beth! Mindy!” It was Sharon’s voice, and we turned around to see her waving at us. “Come in, we can have lunch together.”
We smiled and nodded at Sharon, and then we said goodbye to George.
I handed him my card. “Let me know if you remember anything else,” I told him.
“Sure,” he said. “I’m off to my next job in a few minutes anyhow. It was good talking to you.”
We met Sharon indoors. She was sitting at the dining table near the kitchen and said, “We’re having roast lamb, greens, and mashed potatoes. Aren’t you hungry?”
I looked at all the food laid out on the table and suddenly I was very hungry indeed.
“Thanks for inviting us to stay for lunch,” I said. Beth and I settled down at the table, just as Howard walked into the room.
He froze for a second when he saw us. “I didn’t know you were staying for lunch.”
“I found them talking to George,” said Sharon. “I thought it’d be nice to have some company. There’s always so much food.”
“I suppose so,” said Howard, sitting down opposite his daughter. “This looks delicious.”
“Helen’s a really great chef,” said Sharon. “I don’t know why Celeste kept trying to bring in new chefs.”
“Helen’s got a lot of work on her plate,” said Howard. “But you’re right. We can keep her on to do the cooking. Maybe we’ll hire someone else to do the laundry and the cleaning.”
“That sounds good,” said Sharon. “We’re lucky Helen never left us, like all the other chefs did.”
“Where’s Helen now?” I asked.
“I suppose she’s doing the beds,” said Sharon. “She’s usually cleaning upstairs when we have our lunch.”
We all served ourselves and dug into the food.
In between bites, Sharon said, “Have you learned anything useful?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I appreciate you asking us to eat all this yummy food. I don’t want to ruin the meal with awkward questions.”
“Don’t be silly,” Sharon said. “Daddy doesn’t mind. Do you, Daddy?”
I glanced at Howard, whose eyes were focused on his plate. He muttered something incomprehensible and shook his head. For a man so rich and powerful, he sure was controlled by the women in his life.
I turned to Sharon and said, “Did it bother you, that your dad and Celeste didn’t seem to have such a great marriage?”
Sharon shrugged and glanced at her father. “It did, at first. But I just want Daddy to be happy. And he explained that he was happy with Celeste, even though it wasn’t a traditional marriage. It was an agreement. We were both better off. So I stayed out of it.”
“I heard Celeste’d had an affair with your previous gardener,” I said.
Sharon shrugged. “She slept with everyone. She’d sleep with a table lamp, if it called her beautiful.”
Howard smiled and snorted in agreement.
“Have you heard about this?” I asked him. “What about your current gardener, George?”
“I did hear about it,” said Howard. “I don’t care. If Celeste wanted to sleep with the gardener, she could. Whether it’s George or whomever.”
“I thought George was gay,” I said.
Howard shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought he was pretty friendly with Celeste sometimes.”
I frowned, wondering if George had lied about being gay, and made a mental note to verify it.
“And how about anyone else?” I said. “Was there anyone in particular you suspected?”
Howard shrugged again. “I try to stay busy with my work. Celeste could stay busy however she wanted to.”
“She’d seemed really smug recently,” said Sharon. “I wasn’t sure who it was, but I got the impression there was someone new. Sh
e was never so smug and snide unless she was with someone else.”
Beth turned to Howard and said, “I still don’t get why you didn’t just leave her.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Howard shortly. “You don’t have to deal with the kinds of people I do. And if I wanted a shot at a political career, I needed to stay with her.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said. “But didn’t you ever think you were destroying a chance to be happy just for some money or politics?”
“It wasn’t just some money.” Howard looked at Sharon and smiled. “Everything I did, I did for my precious princess here. And honey, I don’t want you getting ideas that I was unhappy. I was happy enough with your stepmom, as happy as I should’ve been.”
“Of course, Daddy. But I hope Fred and I are happy together.” Sharon smiled beatifically. “I hope our marriage is normal.”
“I’ll make sure he treats you right,” said Howard.
From the glint in his eye, I could tell that he meant it.
“Tell me about Fred,” I said to Sharon. “We haven’t had a chance to meet him yet.”
“Fred is amazing,” said Sharon. “He’s tall and handsome and charming, and he’s just so funny and intelligent.” I glanced at Howard, who was smiling indulgently. I could tell that he didn’t agree with Sharon and was just humoring her. I didn’t blame Howard—Sharon sounded like a woman blinded by love.
“What does he do?” asked Beth. “How’d you two meet?”
“He owns a bar over on State Street,” said Sharon. “I actually met him down at the bar. I used to go out with my girlfriends, and one night my friends didn’t show and Fred kept me company. The rest is history. We’re getting married next month.”
“Wow,” I said.
Sharon didn’t need any prompting to go on. “It’s going to be the most fabulous wedding,” she gushed.
“No expense spared for my princess,” said Howard, watching her indulgently.
“We’re going to have it at the Four Seasons ballroom,” said Sharon. “I’ve got the wedding planner hired, and I know my theme. It’s going to be diamonds in the snow. All twinkly and white and shiny. But tasteful. White orchids, a wall of white roses.”
I nodded, and she went on a bit more, saying things about tableware and flowers and bridal bouquets. I could tell that Howard was as zoned out as I was, and at some point, Beth interrupted Sharon to say, “And what about Fred? Tell us more about him.”
“I’ll show you some photos,” said Sharon, whipping out her smartphone and pulling up some images. “This is him.”
She handed her phone to us, and we looked at the photo of Fred, standing at his bar and smiling. He certainly was handsome, I thought, in a rugged, masculine kind of way. Dark hair, dark eyes, square jawline. Stubble. Broad shoulders.
“You seem to be very happy,” I said, passing the phone back to her. “Fred must be excited.”
“Oh, you know men,” said Sharon. “They’re not into party planning.” She smiled at her father, who smiled back at her.
I turned to Howard. “And what do you think of Fred?”
“As long as he keeps my daughter happy,” said Howard steadily, “I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Daddy’s going to make him a partner in his business,” said Sharon giddily. “He thinks Fred has a real head for business.”
Howard shrugged modestly. “Someone’s gotta look after the business. It’s not going to be Sharon. She’d rather teach people to stay skinny. So if I’m going to keep it in the family, it’ll have to be Fred.”
“And what about Celeste?” I said. “What did she think about Fred?”
A chill fell across the table.
After a few seconds, Sharon said, “Let me clear the table.”
“We’ll help,” said Beth, getting up with her.
The two of us helped Sharon clear the table rapidly, as Howard watched us thoughtfully. Sharon brought out a box of chocolates and made coffee for the four of us.
“This is nice,” she said as we all sipped on our coffees and nibbled on squares of dark chocolate. “It’s nice to have friends over sometimes. Daddy and I have been so busy, we hardly get a chance to do fun things.”
“And parties with Celeste were a pretty stuffy affair,” said Howard. “It was all about work, or people she needed to impress.”
I was a little surprised that the two were so cold about Celeste’s death, but clearly, this had been a family arrangement of convenience. I tried to shift the conversation back to Fred.
“How did Celeste react when you told her about Fred?” I asked Sharon gently.
She pursed her lips and glared at her coffee for a few seconds. Finally, she said, “You know Celeste. It’s always all about family. Who were your parents, who were your grandparents? And if they weren’t some important family, did you at least have millions of dollars in the bank? Would you be able to buy your way to the top, if you hadn’t already been born there?”
“I take it Fred didn’t have a very illustrious family background,” said Beth.
“No. His parents moved to New York from Russia when he was little. His dad worked as a janitor. His mom worked at a bodega. Not what you’d call blue blood.”
“And he wasn’t rich either?”
Sharon shook her head. “He did okay, with his bar. But a comfortable living wasn’t something that impressed Celeste.”
She paused and chewed her piece of chocolate thoughtfully.
“That must’ve been difficult for you and Fred,” I said.
Sharon nodded. “Celeste kept saying that the wedding wouldn’t happen. She said I didn’t really know who Fred was, and what he did. That I’d learn the truth and call off the wedding. She was wrong. I knew Fred. And I knew I wanted to marry him.”
“That’s harsh,” I said. “For her to say all those things.”
“It didn’t matter in the end,” said Sharon. “She kicked up a big fuss, saying that we couldn’t get married, that the truth would come out, but Daddy told her to back off.”
“She’s my only princess,” said Howard gruffly. “If this man makes her happy, then she’s going to marry him. It was none of Celeste’s business.”
“How’d she take that?” I asked.
Howard shrugged, and Sharon laughed shortly.
“Celeste said she wouldn’t come to my wedding,” said Sharon. “Said if she wasn’t there, Daddy’s clients and business contacts would talk. That Fred couldn’t ever do well with Daddy’s business.”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” Howard reassured Sharon. “I would’ve made sure she was at the wedding.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Sharon lightly. “We would’ve eloped if we’d needed to.”
“That’s quite romantic,” I said. “I can’t wait to meet this fiancé of yours.”
“I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you,” said Sharon. “He was saying that he’d close his bar early on weekdays from now on.”
Santa Verona shops and restaurants tended to close up around nine o’clock. Bars sometimes stayed open till midnight, but I agreed with Fred’s decision to close shop early. The locals, and even the tourists, tended to head back indoors after ten o’clock.
“We’ll call him and make an appointment to have a chat,” I said. “Maybe he can help us out. Maybe he knows something about Celeste.”
Chapter Fourteen
Beth and I were just finishing up our coffees and getting ready to say goodbye, when there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” said Sharon.
She disappeared for a minute, and when she reappeared, Neve was on her heels.
“Beth, Mindy,” said Sharon. “You remember Neve.”
From the look on Sharon’s face, I’d say that Sharon remembered Neve as well.
Neve was wearing a pastel-pink dress today, silver stilettos, and a pink Prada handbag. Golden earrings dangled from her lobes, and she smiled at Howard.
“Hello, Mr. Rochef
ord,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again. We met at the club last month.”
“Likewise,” said Howard politely. But I could tell that he didn’t remember Neve at all, and he glanced at her curiously.
Sharon came and sat down at the dining table again, and Neve pulled out a chair and sat down opposite us.
“It’s nice to see you two again,” she said to us.
I smiled thinly and didn’t answer.
“What’re you doing here?” said Sharon. She sounded wary, like she didn’t quite want to deal with Neve.
“I was hoping we could chat,” said Neve.
“There’s not much to chat about,” said Sharon. “Not after I caught you making out with my first boyfriend in high school.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Howard narrowing his eyes at Neve. A muscle worked in his jaw. He really meant it when he said that he didn’t want anyone to hurt Sharon.
I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia. My father had died when I was sixteen. He’d been a police officer and had died in the line of fire. He had been just as protective of me, and not a day went by that I didn’t miss him.
I gulped. And like I usually did when faced with unhappy thoughts, I quickly pushed it out of my mind. My father had been a wonderful dad when he’d been around. I was thankful that I’d gotten to share sixteen years of my life with him. But I was an adult now, and being jealous of someone else’s father wasn’t particularly mature.
Neve flicked her hair back and smiled sweetly. “Oh, Sharon,” she said. “I did you a favor.”
“And how’s that?” Sharon’s voice would’ve turned a lake to ice, but Neve didn’t seem to notice.
“He was a cheating bastard,” said Neve smoothly. “Wouldn’t you rather find out sooner than later?”
Sharon glared at Neve icily, not conceding the point.
After a few seconds, Neve looked away and glanced at me and Beth. “What’re you two doing here?”
“Catching up with an old friend,” I said smoothly. “What’s it to you?”
Wacky Walnuts: A Piece of Cake Mystery (Piece of Cake Mysteries Book 2) Page 5