Crème Brûlée To Slay

by CeeCee James

  It was similar to the iconic peacock that I’d seen Mrs. Vanderton wearing. But it wasn’t identical and appeared to be slightly smaller than the one she had in her hair.

  “Good eye! Where did you find this at?” I asked.

  “It was on the velvet table cloth where the saber was kept. I figured when she leaned over to look at it, maybe it just fell off?”

  I took a picture of it with my phone and sent the shot to Frank. Frowning, I scrolled through our previous messages. I was a bit disappointed to see he hadn’t responded to my earlier text about the cookies.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Johnson asked. The poor woman still appeared worried.

  “I’m just letting my buddy who’s on the police force know what was found. I think they’ll be interested.”

  Frank texted back. —What’s this?

  —Mrs. Johnson found it in the drawing room. She assumed Mrs. Vanderton dropped it and picked it up to return to her.

  —I’ll be over to take a look at it.

  I smiled as I clicked off the phone. “He’s coming to get it.”

  “Oh, okay. Should I—?” she made as if to pick it up.

  “I think we shouldn’t touch it again. Just in case it helps the investigation. I’ve gotten into trouble for touching things in the past.” I smiled at her.

  “Oooh, okay,” she said, giving her fingers a guilty look. “I’ve touched it. Did I ruin anything?”

  “No. I’m sure it’s fine, and I’m just being extra careful. It’s Cecelia’s grandson that’s coming over. He’s chewed me out more than once when I’ve touched something. His bark is worse than his bite, but I don’t want to give him an opportunity to do it again.”

  She smiled, appearing reassured, and we headed back down to the living room.

  The Johnson’s had just started another game of rummy, with Cecelia bringing in a fresh fruit salad to snack on, when Frank arrived.

  With the Johnson’s permission, I led Frank up to their room. He studied the pin for a moment and then scooped it up into an evidence bag. Then, he tromped back down the stairs to take Mrs. Johnson’s statement. When he’d finished, we headed into the kitchen.

  As soon as the door shut, I turned to Frank. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s pretty odd that it fell off her dress. You sure you saw her wearing the same peacock in her hair?”

  I nodded. “Not the same, but similar. If it belonged to anyone else, I’d be shocked. They’re unique pieces. Looks like an antique, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised if it belonged to someone in her family.”

  He nodded. “All right. I guess we’ll run it up to her sister and see if there’s any way she can identify it.”

  That hardly seemed likely, given that they hadn’t seen each other in years. But if it was a family piece, the sister might remember.

  Little did I know it would be the coroner giving us the biggest information on the pin.

  Chapter 10

  “Hey, did you get my text about the cookies?” I asked Frank as I walked him out to his car.

  “Yep. I texted you back that they were looking into it.”

  “You did not,” I said.

  “Sure I did.” He started to argue, even whipping out his phone to prove it. “See,” he said after scrolling a bit. “I sent it….” His voice trailed off.

  “Yes?” I prompted, giving him a little nudge.

  “I thought I sent it. But instead I got distracted by the file the coroner sent me.” He opened the message and stared at it.

  “Oh yeah? Can I see?” I leaned over his shoulder to peek.

  “Get away, snoopy,” he said, holding his phone higher. Really, it wasn’t fair, given that he was a foot taller than my own five-foot-two.

  He opened his car and gestured to the other side. “Get in. It’s freezing out here.”

  I scrambled into the passenger side while he started the car and turned the dial to blast the heat.

  “Well?” I asked, rubbing my hands together while he read the file. “What does it say?”

  “I don’t think this pin could have belonged to Veronica Vanderton,” he said, frowning.

  “That’s impossible. Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Well, you tell me. How many pins do you ladies wear at a time?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It says here in the description of the articles she was wearing that she had on one crucifix necklace, one peacock head piece, and one giant pin described here as a purple flower affixed over her heart, in addition to a watch and three rings.”

  “She was already wearing a pin?” I sank back into the seat feeling confused.

  “Yeah. Seems like it,” he sighed.

  “So that makes no sense for her to have on another pin.”

  He pulled out the baggy and studied it. “I agree. Unless I missed something where women wear multiple pins, it seems highly unlikely that it’s hers.”

  “This is crazy.” I smiled at him.

  “What?” he asked, his dark eyebrows lifting.

  “If someone had told me when I was fifteen years old that I’d be sitting in a cop car with you, discussing women’s pins, I’d have thought they were crazy.”

  “Crazy, huh? You make that sound like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with that? It’s a crazy world, after all. Now, get out of here, Short Stuff, and let me get back to work.” He half-grinned.

  “Whatever.” I got out of the car. As I turned to go, he rolled down the window.

  “Hey,” he yelled.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think I’m starting to like crazy.”

  I grinned as I jogged up the steps.

  “Did he like the pin?” Mrs. Johnson asked as I entered. She was slipping on her coat.

  “He did. I think you found a real clue,” I said, giving her a thumbs up.

  “Oh, good,” she said, fluttering her hand to her chest. “I’m so relieved.”

  Her husband came down the stairs then. “You ready to go?”

  “Where are you two off to?” I asked.

  “We heard there’s a great Amish restaurant around here. We want to check it out.”

  “Sunnyside Gale?” I asked.

  They both nodded.

  “You’ll love that place. They have some banana bread that I get every time. I also recommend the apple crisp.”

  “Sounds lovely!” Mrs. Johnson said. Her husband held the door open for her, and they headed out.

  That reminded me, I really needed to stop by there again, because it had been a while. I wonder if I could incorporate it into one of my tours.

  “Is Frank here?” Cecelia called from the kitchen.

  I briskly walked back there. “Yeah, he was here to pick something up, but he just left.”

  “That rascal. Didn’t even stop to say hi to his Grandma.” She was wrist-deep in dough.

  “What are you making?” I asked as I started in on the dishes. Most of the pots and pans were already washed and sitting on a towel to dry. I didn’t know how Cecelia did it, but she managed to cook and keep up with dishes at the same time.

  “Bread for tomorrow,” she said, turning it over. “What did he pick up?”

  “A pin that Mrs. Johnson found at the dinner party. We thought it might be Mrs. Vandertons’, but now we don’t know. The coroner recorded her as already wearing a pin when she came in. Frank took it in as evidence.” I finished with the wine glasses.

  “I do remember her wearing a pin. A big purple one.”

  “I just noticed the one in her hair.” Carefully, I wiped the glasses dry.

  “Yes she had that one too.” Cecelia flicked the dough into a loaf pan. She covered them with a clean cloth and set them by the stove to rise.

  I finished drying the rest of the dishes as I thought about the other women at the dinner party, trying desperately to call to mind what jewelry they wore. Sparkling necklaces, diamond earrings, but not one came to mind that was in the antique nature.

  A
nother thing that struck me was how old-fashioned pins were. Was it common for women to wear one at this type of dinner engagement? The last ones I’d seen was when Cecelia got ready for church. Yet, here there were apparently two women who’d worn them to an elegant dinner function.

  My mind immediately went to Gayle Marshall. She did own that antique shop down at the centurial section of town. If I recalled correctly, there was a jewelry section. Maybe she’d worn it.

  “Do you have anything else for me to do?” I asked , hopefully, as I put the last dish away.

  “Sorry, GiGi.” She sighed and rinsed her hands at the sink and wiped them on a towel. “I won’t need you until tomorrow to help flip the place after the Johnson’s check out.”

  We were expecting a large group of guests at four the following day But, even then, I wasn’t going to be working much. They were in town for a family reunion.

  I sighed. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

  I glanced at my watch. The Johnson’s had wanted an early dinner, so it was still only five-thirty. I figured there still might be time to visit the antique shop.

  The daylight was finally getting longer, and it was a relief it wasn’t fully dark yet when I pulled into a stall in front of the building.

  Gayle’s Old Glories was adorable. It was set on the outskirts of town, with trees all behind it. The front sidewalk was crammed full of country antiques, an old milk bin, wine barrels, and a wooden table decorated to look like a potting table with flowers, a hand shovel, and clay pots. There was a rocking chair draped with an old quilt that sat near the door.

  The sign in front said the business didn’t close until six. I’d made it with fifteen minutes to spare. An overhead bell rang as I entered, and inside, the place smelled like every antique store I’d ever been in—old and musty.

  I glanced around for Gayle. Old-time tunes played from an overhead speaker.

  “Can I help you?’ A woman in her forties asked from behind the counter.

  I walked up to her. “Is Gayle here?”

  “She’s putting together a display in the back. If you wander back there, I’m sure you’ll find her.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Before I left, I examined the display counter. Underneath the glass were rows of antique costume jewelry. Sparkles came from the paste jewels in the eyes of metal poodles, flowers, and cats.

  Interesting.

  Satisfied, I walked in the direction of where I heard stacking sounds. Gayle was there wearing denim capris, with her hair pinned up. She was stacking wooden fruit crates to make a display.

  “Hi, Gayle. Remember me?”

  She pushed back a fallen wisp and looked toward me with a smile. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t think so?”

  “I was one of the servers last night. At the charity dinner?”

  “Oh, yes, I remember you. That was quite a night, wasn’t it? That poor woman. What a shock.”

  “Were you acquainted with Mrs. Vanderton?”

  “We’d spoken before, yes. Before last night, I hadn’t seen her for at least six months. Since sometime last August.”

  “Well, the reason I came by was that a pin was found when we cleaned up. Someone thought it might have been yours.”

  “A pin?”

  “Yes. A peacock broach. It looks to be quite old.”

  “I didn’t have a broach on.” She thought for a second, her eyes squinting. “But you know who was wearing a peacock? Veronica Vanderton. Perhaps it fell off of her when she left the table?”

  It was interesting to me that she referred to the dining room as the place it was found. Was she saying that to redirect me? But why would she do that?

  “You have a very nice place here.” I said, glancing around. “Have you owned it for long?”

  She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “About two years. We branched out in our corporation, and I got this place for my own. I’m quite proud of it.”

  “I can see why. I bet it gets really busy in the summer with all the tourists.”

  “It does. I actually sell most of my stuff online. We have private clients.” Gayle gave me a stiff smile. “I can’t depend on the tourist season or the business would probably go under.”

  “Of course. That makes sense. Lately, I’ve been kind of being affected by the wan in tourists, myself. At the bed and breakfast, I mean,” I added to clarify.

  “Yes, Cecelia Wagner’s place. Boy was Veronica mad when she lost out on it.” The woman smiled, and not in a nice way.

  “Yes, I heard. I guess she made some trouble for Cecelia with permits.

  Gayle waved her hand. “Cecelia had nothing to worry about. Denise went to bat for her with the city permits and straightened it out.”

  “Denise?” I asked.

  “Denise Miquel. Steve’s wife.” Seeing my look of surprise, Gayle continued. “Denise is one my best friends. We’ve been friends ever since college, where we used to compete together in a collegiate shooting program.” She smiled proudly. “I’m telling you, put us together and nothing could stop us.”

  “You won, huh?”

  “So many times. Those were the days.” She looked fondly at a ring on her finger. It was a college class ring. She pointed to an engraving on the side. “See this here? That’s the symbol for our shooting team.”

  I leaned in to look. “Wow, that’s incredible!”

  She nodded. “Those really were good times. Back when I felt young and invincible. Now I find treasures for others, and try not to be invisible.”

  “Aw, I’m sure those in your life don’t feel that way. Your husband maybe?”

  She surprised me by rolling her eyes. “The greatest love I’ve ever received was not from my husband.”

  I swallowed, not sure how to continue. Time to leave. “Well, I just wanted to come by and check to see if the pin belonged to you.”

  “No, I’m sorry. But I’ll keep my ear out. We’re having a city business luncheon in a few weeks. A lot of the same people will be there, so I can ask around.”

  “Thank you!” I said. After a small wave goodbye, I turned to go.

  A city business luncheon, huh? It made sense since Gayle’s husband owned half the buildings in town. But boy, that look in her eye when I mentioned the word husband. Didn’t seem like there was a lot of love lost there.

  As I approached the front door, something caught my attention. Hanging on the wall was a saber, complete with its leather-embellished sheath. I glanced back in her direction as a weird thought popped into my mind. Could she have taken the sword when everyone was distracted? Maybe to sell to one of her exclusive clients?

  Okay, that’s too crazy, even for me.

  I dismissed that thought, completely forgetting the conversation I’d just had with Frank. It was a crazy world after all.

  Chapter 11

  After leaving Gayle’s Old Glories, I drove around a bit, the way I usually did when I was trying to process all the pieces of a puzzle to try to make them fit. Nothing was coming to me though, and I realized I was starving. My sweet tooth had been rearing its head lately, particularly after serving that scrumptious-looking dessert the other night. I’d been watching baking shows lately, and had a newfound confidence in my culinary skills. I could make that, right? How hard could it be? After all, I did make a chocolate cake from scratch.

  I was rather proud of that one.

  Plan in mind, I headed to the store. In the parking lot, I did a quick search on how to make crème brûlée. Looking at the ingredient’s list, I was impressed that there were only five. Win for me, since I already had four of them at home.

  I grabbed a hand basket and was hurrying toward the dairy aisle when my phone buzzed. It was Adele.

  “Well, the detective just called me about those cookies.” Her voice was glum. I braced myself for the news.

  “Okay?”

  “Apparently, the cookies were already gone by the time he stopped by today. But the butler told him that they were made fresh twice a week. Mrs. Miquel like
s to have something to snack on when she visits the library.”

  “Did they have nuts in them?” I asked, crossing my fingers, even though Veronica didn’t have a known allergy.

  “Oatmeal raisin. So the investigation is back to really focusing on my menu. Police officers actually came earlier and took samples of the ingredients I brought. They even asked if I used Worcestershire sauce and anchovies.”

  “And nothing, right?”

  “No. I already told you. I told everyone. The only seafood I had was parchment-wrapped sole, and that only went to one person.”

  One person … it hadn’t been on my side of the table. “Who exactly did that go to, do you know?”

  “The mayor’s wife.”

  Hmm. That didn’t seem helpful.

  “All right, I’ll keep thinking. Don’t you worry because we’ll figure this out.”

  “I hope so, Georgie. As it is, I’ve had two bookings cancel already.”

  My heart felt heavy when I hung up. I slung a carton of heavy cream into my hand basket, grabbed some coffee and a tube of toothpaste, and headed for the check-out line.

  I was on my way back out to the van when Frank texted. — verdict is in. According to Vanderton’s medical report, her only allergy was shellfish. There was nothing in there about nuts.

  So unless they had been shrimp cookies, that idea was definitely ruled out. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the question of what did she eat that had been contaminated?

  The drive home was uneventful, but I groaned as I approached my apartment. Parking was completely filled in front of the building. I ended up pulling into a spot almost a block and a half away, but it was the best I could do. I hit the e-brake and grabbed my stuff, then hurried up the sidewalk.

  It was dark by now, and quiet. I was turning the events over in my head, trying to figure out how else she could have eaten shellfish, when dog lunged at me from inside a parked car as I passed. I nearly dropped my groceries as I jumped, my heart beating triple time. He continued to bark as I ran up the stairs of the brick building and punched in the entry code. A buzz let me know the doors had unlocked.