Carrot Cake and Cryptic Clues

by A. R. Winters

  I slitted my eyes. “How do you know about Detective Buchanan?”

  “I’m working with Liam at the DA’s office,” Neve said smugly. “Trying to help him line up testimonies and stuff.”

  “You’re not even a registered PI,” I said through clenched teeth. “How can he hire you?”

  “Technically, I’m an unpaid intern,” said Neve. “But I’m training as a PI. And Liam and I get along well.”

  She smiled at me, her blue eyes full of innuendo.

  If she thought I’d be jealous, she was wrong. Liam and I had dated when I was in college. Very briefly. Liam was a law student at that time, but he was an egomaniac, narcissistic sociopath, and I was happy to have broken up with him. If anything, I regretted not breaking up with him sooner.

  “Good luck with that,” I told Neve, refusing to get caught up in her drama.

  “Anyway,” Neve said, turning to Sharon again, “since I’m helping out with the DA’s case against Beth, I was hoping to get some help from you.”

  “I don’t have to talk to you,” said Sharon smiling politely. “In fact, I was just about to step out.”

  “Don’t you want to nail your stepmom’s killer?” said Neve.

  Sharon stood up. “Not particularly. Why don’t I walk you to the door?”

  Neve stood up uncertainly. Beth and I were unable to hide our smirks, and Neve glared at us.

  “This isn’t right,” she said, her voice laced with barely contained anger. “You’re messing with the investigation.”

  “We’re doing no such thing,” I said naively. “We’re just here to chat with an old friend. We’ve all just had lunch together. Too bad you’re not friends with us.”

  Neve looked at us, as though she was trying to decide what to say. In the end, she turned around regally and looked at Sharon. “Thanks for your time,” she said haughtily. “I’ll see you around.”

  Sharon walked her to the door, and when she came back, Howard said, “So that’s the girl who gave you such a hard time in high school.”

  Sharon shrugged. “I don’t really care anymore. She was right—she proved that the guy was a cheater. But she was mean to everyone, and I don’t see why I need to help her get a job at the DA’s office.”

  Howard nodded. “You did the right thing. Technically, she was badgering us during our private time at home.”

  There was a knock on the door, and George walked in. “I left some shears in the garden,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “I’ll just grab them and get going. Sorry to bother you all.”

  “Actually,” I said, standing up, “Beth and I need to get going too. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Howard. “I hope you find out something useful.”

  I looked at him thoughtfully. “I hope so too,” I said, an idea forming in my mind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beth and I headed over to her car, and then we waited until we saw George reappear with his shears.

  “Are you sure this’ll prove anything?” Beth asked.

  “Not really,” I admitted. “But it’s worth a shot. We know that whoever ordered the carrot-walnut cake was a man. So for now, all men are our enemies.”

  George got into a battered old Honda Accord, looked around, and drove off.

  Beth drove behind him, a few cars back, and followed him to a café in the north. George parked on the street, and we found a spot just a few cars behind his.

  The café looked trendy, with tables outside. Through the large windows, we could see a bright, well-lit interior. As we watched, George approached a man sitting by himself at a table outside.

  The two men hugged briefly, and then George sat down opposite him and smiled. They chatted about something, and then both of them laughed uproariously.

  “I guess we’ve proved he’s almost definitely gay,” said Beth. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not a killer.”

  “I know,” I said. “But he was telling the truth about something. He couldn’t have been having an affair with Celeste.”

  “I don’t think he was,” Beth admitted. “But maybe he killed her for some other reason. Maybe he hated her.”

  “He said she barely talked to him,” I said. “And I’d tend to believe that. Which means he had no reason to hate her.”

  “You think it was Howard, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “He seems awful suspicious. He’s the one with the most to gain from Celeste’s death.”

  “But how would you prove he did it?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  We drove back to my apartment, and I gave Fred a quick call.

  “Sure, I can chat with you,” he said, after I explained who I was. “I don’t mind helping out a friend of Sharon’s.”

  I thanked him, and after I took down the address of his bar, I hung up and turned to Beth. “We’ve got some time,” I said. “How about we catch up on all the goss?”

  Beth rolled her eyes, but she knew it was worth doing. So we packed some slices of chocolate cake and drove five minutes inland, until we were at my mom’s house.

  “We bring cake,” I announced as Beth and I walked into the dining room, where Aunt Kira was sitting and reading. I glanced around the familiar room, with its off-white drapes, dark wooden table and framed Van Gogh prints. “Well. Mostly Beth brings cake.”

  “It’s great to see you two,” said Aunt Kira, embracing Beth in a hug. She gave me a hug too, almost as an afterthought. “Beth, darling, I heard they arrested you.”

  “It was all a big mistake,” I assured Aunt Kira. “We’re trying to find the real killer.”

  “Celeste Rocheford,” said my mom, entering the room. Like Aunt Kira, she dished out the hugs when she saw us. It was as though Beth getting arrested had made the two women suddenly concerned about our safety. “Now, that’s a name you hear all the time.”

  “What do you hear?” I said.

  “All kinds of things,” said Mom. “But I’m sure we don’t need to tell you that most people here hated her.”

  “She was horrible to everyone,” added Aunt Kira. “It’s too bad about her getting Beth into trouble.”

  “Nobody seems that upset,” I said. “Not even her own husband.”

  “You know that was just a marriage of convenience,” said Aunt Kira. “You’d hear all kinds of things about Celeste, in particular. That she slept with tennis pros, that she’d sleep with the gardener.”

  “How did Howard deal with the rumors?” I asked. “He said he stayed with Celeste so that he was in the good books of the conservative crowd he did business with. You’d think those people wouldn’t be pleased to hear about Celeste’s philandering.”

  “You and I might not have liked people like Celeste,” said my mom slowly. “But there’s still a very powerful group of people in this town who worship old money. Or old families, even if the money isn’t there anymore.”

  “So you’re saying these people didn’t care about Celeste’s affairs?”

  “I think they turned a blind eye,” said Mom. “They probably didn’t believe it. And even if they did, they cared more about appearances than about the actual thing. And the important thing was to create the appearance of a happy family life.”

  “Why’d Celeste even get married?” asked Beth. “She didn’t want kids, and she didn’t seem to believe in monogamy.”

  “She needed money,” said Aunt Kira bluntly. “Her family fortune had run out. Her brother went East and got a job in New York. Celeste didn’t have the skills to get a job of her own. The only thing she had was her old family name. And she leveraged that one asset to find a man who’d support her.”

  “Maybe he got tired of supporting her,” I suggested.

  “I doubt that,” said Aunt Kira. “Howard Rocheford is one of the most successful businessmen in this town. He would have no trouble supporting an army of Celestes.”

  “Maybe he got sick of all her
put-downs,” said Beth.

  Mom shook her head no. “If he’d gotten sick of her, he’d have left her much sooner. It’s not like anything changed recently.”

  “Sharon was getting married,” I said slowly. “That was a recent thing. Celeste didn’t approve and said she’d make Fred’s life miserable. She said she wouldn’t go to the wedding, and the old, conservative crowd wouldn’t accept Fred.”

  Mom and Aunt Kira exchanged a glance. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have gone through with that,” my mom said finally. “She’d been a parent to Sharon for so long. In the end, she would’ve tried to make her child happy. I’m sure she wanted Sharon to be happy.”

  “Or maybe she really didn’t care about anyone other than herself,” said Aunt Kira. “That’s the impression she always gave.”

  “What about Howard?” I asked. “Celeste wasn’t faithful to him. But you would think that a man would be the one to have straying eyes.”

  Aunt Kira shrugged. “Not all men are the same. But I get what you’re saying. Celeste never bothered to make him happy. And I’m sure he did look for happiness somewhere else.”

  “But there weren’t any rumors about him?”

  Beth said, “Howard told us that Celeste said would leave him if she got any proof of his infidelity.”

  “Maybe she got some proof,” I suggested. “Maybe Howard decided to kill her before she could leave him.”

  “That sounds a little far-fetched,” said my mom. “But you never know. Although, I’ve never really heard about anyone dating Howard. And you know how news spreads in this tiny place.”

  “I know,” said Aunt Kira, nodding her head. “I’ve never heard anything about Howard’s infidelities. If he was unfaithful, he was certainly very careful about it.”

  I nodded. “He does seem like a careful man. But if he did kill Celeste, he must’ve left tracks somewhere. And I’m going to find them, wherever they are.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Beth and I stayed at my mom’s house till long after dinner, chatting about life and TV shows and nothing in particular over coffee and chocolate cake.

  Finally, at nine o’clock, we said our goodbyes, and Beth and I headed over to Fred’s bar.

  Fred’s bar was creatively named Fred’s Bar. It was on the west side of town, a few blocks away from Santa Verona University. A neon sign of a cowgirl hung above the doorway, and the place was empty when we walked in.

  Inside, the bar was dimly lit and smelled of cheap alcohol and cheap perfume, but it held the promise of an inexpensive good time. I hadn’t really pegged Sharon as the kind of girl who went partying with the college crowd, but people always surprised you.

  There were tables scattered around the small place, with booths lining one wall. The bar was on the other end of the room, with shelves displaying all kinds of drinks, and wine glasses hanging upside down from racks.

  Fred was manning the bar alone, wearing a black t-shirt and a serious expression. His face lit up in a smile when he saw us, and I knew instantly why Sharon had chosen to marry him. In person, he was even better looking than his photo.

  “I was waiting for you ladies,” Fred said as we approached the counter and sat down on the high barstools. “Let me get you a drink. On the house.”

  His eyes twinkled as though he was doing us a personal favor, and his charm was magnetic and almost irresistible.

  “Thanks,” I said. “We’ll have two club sodas.”

  Fred made a mock-disappointed face. “I can make decent drinks. Trust me. I won’t disappoint. How about some nice mojitos? Or are you more of a Long Island iced tea kind of person? Don’t tell me you want to do Red Bull and vodka shots, or I’ll be very disappointed.”

  I laughed despite myself. “No, we trust you,” I said. “But we’ll stick to the club sodas.”

  “Three club sodas,” said Fred, finding glasses and pouring out the sodas. “On the house.” He placed our drinks before us and took a sip of his own. “Now, I hear you’re looking into Celeste’s death.”

  “We are,” I said. “And I was hoping you could help us.”

  “Anything,” he said. “Fire away.”

  “Well,” I said uncertainly, “how long’ve you known Celeste for?”

  “Not very long,” he said. “Sharon and I’ve been dating for about seven months now. We got engaged last month, and I only met Celeste after we got engaged.”

  “And you’re getting married in a month’s time?” Beth said, sounding impressed. “That’s really soon. I can’t believe Sharon found a venue so fast.”

  “Sharon didn’t want a long engagement,” said Fred. “And I don’t mind, as long as we’re together.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said, smiling. “You must love her a lot.”

  “I do,” said Fred, nodding seriously. “I’m a lucky guy. I can’t believe she picked me. And I’m not about to mess it up.”

  “Yeah,” I joked. “Or Howard’ll come after you.”

  Fred laughed. “Howard is a funny guy. But he loves Sharon, and I guess by default he loves me.”

  “Unlike Celeste,” said Beth.

  Silence fell. Fred sipped his drink, and then he said, “Celeste didn’t like very many people.”

  “But she particularly didn’t like you. She basically threatened to try to ruin your wedding. And your marriage, and your future prospects at Howard’s business.”

  Fred’s eyes darkened. “I don’t care about a nice wedding or a job with Howard. I care about Sharon. And I didn’t like that she was making Sharon so upset.”

  Beth said, “So you decided to kill her.”

  Fred blinked, shocked. “No, of course not. What a thing to say.”

  “You just said you didn’t like her,” Beth pointed out.

  “Me and half the town,” said Fred. “Just because I didn’t like her, that doesn’t mean…anyway, it’s not like I even disliked her that much. I was hoping to win her over before the wedding.”

  “And how was that going?” I asked.

  Fred shrugged. “Not that great. But I had time on my side.”

  “Celeste said that Sharon wouldn’t want to marry you after she found out the truth about you. What was that about?”

  Fred’s handsome face darkened. “She was just trying to be troublesome. She found out that I’ve got a son. Four years old, lives in Nevada with his mom, Paige.”

  I tried not to look too surprised. “Wow. You’re a dad.”

  “Well, not technically. Paige and I slept together once or twice. It was nothing serious, and she didn’t even like me that much. She got married to someone else six months into the pregnancy. I know he’s my son, but Paige doesn’t want me in his life. It’s fair enough, I guess.”

  “And Celeste found this out, how?”

  Fred took a deep breath. “I got drunk one time and admitted it to her. After that, she thought she had something to lord over me. More fool her: I told Sharon about my son a few weeks into our relationship. I don’t believe in secrets.”

  “So you’re not in touch with Paige anymore?” I said.

  Fred shook his head. “She’s got her own life. She wanted a family, and she didn’t want me messing her life up. I can respect that. Paige’s new husband’s a good father to my son, and I don’t want to make anyone unhappy.”

  “What about Howard?” Beth said. “Did he know about this?”

  “Yes. But he didn’t think it was a big deal, either. It was only Celeste who thought it was such a big deal.”

  “So Celeste didn’t know that Howard and Sharon already knew about your son?”

  Fred smiled wryly. “She kept making these snide comments to Sharon. I thought I’d let her be happy with that one.”

  Beth said, “Why not just come out and tell Celeste that Sharon knew?”

  “If she knew she didn’t have anything over me, she might’ve tried to create more trouble,” said Fred. “Who knows how? I just wanted to get married, and then I could work on impressing Celeste. Of cou
rse, Sharon didn’t seem to like her all that much anyway. She said it didn’t matter what Celeste thought of me.”

  I nodded. “And Howard seemed to like you. Enough to want you to work for his business.”

  Fred smiled modestly. “I think he just wanted to make Sharon happy. And so do I. If working for Howard will make Sharon happy, then I will.”

  “It’ll also be great for your career,” Beth pointed out. “You own this one bar now. As opposed to the millions in commercial property that Howard owns.”

  Fred’s expression froze for a split second, and then he relaxed again. “Careful, now,” he said with a charming smile. “Some folks might think that you’re trying to insult them.”

  “But it is true,” Beth insisted. “This is a great career move for you.”

  “I’m not interested in making a career out of marrying people,” Fred said lightly. “In case you didn’t know, I actually love Sharon. She’s beautiful. Kind. Intelligent. I want to be with her forever.”

  “Even if that means working with Howard,” Beth said.

  I saw a glimmer of annoyance in Fred’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose there are people out there who want to marry into family, or money, or whatever. And I can’t prove that I’m not one of those people. I don’t need to. As long as Sharon trusts me, I’m happy.”

  “But Celeste didn’t trust you,” I pointed out.

  “Celeste—like I’ve mentioned before, she didn’t trust or like most people. There’s nothing I can do about that. Of course, she’s dead now. Otherwise, I’d hoped to win her over someday. I’ll just have to satisfy myself with winning over Helen.”

  “Helen?” I looked at Fred, puzzled, and smiled. Perhaps he was making some kind of joke. “The housekeeper? Why would you need to win her over?”

  Doubt crept into Fred’s eyes, and he glanced from me to Beth. “I guess you don’t know, huh?”

  “Know what?” said Beth, mystified.

  “Howard was having an affair with Helen.”

  Chapter Seventeen