'Tis the Season to Be Murdered

by Valerie Wolzien

  “A party where the owner of the catering company was just arrested,” he reminded her.

  “And much to the credit of my people, no one’s good time has been interrupted,” Brett added.

  “Maybe Susan should tell us about all this …,” Jerry suggested.

  “Okay, but let’s keep it down. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s good time,” she insisted, moving back and sitting down on the stairway to the second floor.

  “First tell me why she did it,” Jerry asked. “Kathleen told me that Gwen and Z weren’t romantically involved anymore.”

  “If they ever were,” Kathleen added. “Even though they lived and worked in the same house at one time, there was never any hard evidence that they were more than friends and colleagues.”

  “The motivation was professional,” Susan explained. “In fact, Gwen told me why she did it when she was explaining the origins of The Holly and Ms. Ivy. Remember, they went to New York City to raise money. Gwen failed to convince a completely disinterested venture capitalist to invest in them, but Z got money—as well as their first job—from his aunt. The business was completely funded by Z. In fact, it really was Z’s company.”

  “But he was doing less and less of the real work,” Brett added. “That was obvious to Kathleen at the beginning of the investigation.”

  “True.” Susan nodded. “People overheard Gwen claiming that she was happy to leave all the schmoozing of the clients to Z—and she probably was—but that didn’t mean that she enjoyed being left to plan all the details of each and every party. Every time I asked a question about who did what, the answer was Gwen. Selecting the food, talking to suppliers, ordering everything from staples, to seafood, to toothpicks, and flowers fell into her lap more and more. And she did all the paperwork for the company as well.”

  “And Z?” Jerry asked.

  “Z did the fun work. Anyone who has planned anything can tell you that the broad outline and the concepts are exciting to develop. Z met with clients and suggested English tea parties in homes where the first floor could be turned into a Victorian conservatory. Z planned miniature rodeos in rooftop gardens and toga parties in swimming pools under apartment houses. He convinced hostesses that balloons and a circus theme would be fun, and that they would be remembered more for the wine tasting they gave if their guests were entertained in a mock-up of a French wine cellar built for the day in the middle of the lawn.

  “And then Z was always around to take care of the hostess right before the party began, going so far as to bring champagne to toast the success of the event before it actually happened. But while all this was going on, Gwen was back in her small office doing the hard work. And knowing that if Z got bored, it could all change in minutes—and that was more and more likely all the time.”

  “Why?” Kathleen asked.

  “Because Z didn’t have to work anymore. His wealthy aunt had died, making him a wealthy person in his own right. Remember, he was her only heir.”

  “But even if he left, and The Holly and Ms. Ivy folded, couldn’t Gwen have just started another company and gone on without him?” Jed asked.

  “Probably not in the style that they had developed over the years—with the carriage house and all. And, in fact, the reputation of The Holly and Ms. Ivy was that Z was a wonderful party planner. I’m not sure that Gwen could have done it without him. At the very least, she would have spent years building up a reputation. And everyone talks about how much competition there is in their field. If The Holly and Ms. Ivy ever folds, there will be a lot of people prepared to step into the void.

  “But, with Z dying unexpectedly, the company can survive for a time on its reputation. They’re fully booked for months to come, and it’s too late to hire someone else. Gwen planned on handling the upcoming parties, and if they were as good as in the past, she could have continued on without much more than a pause for Z’s funeral.”

  “But what did all this have to do with the parties in Hancock this week? Why Hancock?” Kathleen asked, sticking to the point.

  “Gwen is no slouch either when it comes to planning, remember. It was what she did sixteen hours a day, seven days a week,” Susan explained. “And she planned this murder so that she wouldn’t get caught. If Z had been killed in New York or somewhere in Westchester County, she would have been the only suspect—being the one person closely connected with the victim. But in Hancock, things were different. Z was romantically involved with women in town. He worked out at a popular club, jogged with friends, lived with the relative of a fellow worker. He was a part of the community. There were bound to be more suspects here than any other place.”

  “So Gwen murdered Z here in Hancock to muddy the waters, so to speak. That makes sense.” Jerry nodded.

  “And she made a bunch of quote mistakes unquote that confused things even more,” Susan continued. “Gwen claimed it was a mistake that she scheduled Gillian’s party for the same day and identical time as Alexis’s party. And the mix-up wasn’t discovered until both sets of invitations were in the mail, and it would have been difficult to correct the problem. So it was logical that each party would go on as planned—with each woman competing to be Hancock’s hostess with the mostest. And then Gwen actually encouraged the two women to compete with each other over every detail by telling one that the other was trying to surpass her. She made a mistake there—Alexis told me about that.

  “And Gillian and Alexis had both spent a lot of time with Z as well, planning the parties and, probably, flirting like crazy. When Z was murdered, naturally they became primary suspects—under the circumstances.”

  “Circumstances that Gwen Ivy created,” Brett added.

  “Was the fire at the Kent’s party a planned mistake, too? Was it set?” Jerry asked.

  “That was an accident. An accident that almost ruined Gwen’s plans,” Susan said.

  “You see,” Brett explained. “Gwen killed Z during that party. She strangled him—probably getting a black eye in the process. Susan talked with JoAnn Kent today and realized that Gwen must have sent all her employees to another party or back to the carriage house. That’s the only reason that no one was in the kitchen when the stove caught fire.”

  “On the other hand, what I was thinking about wasn’t the logistics of the fire and Christmas Day, but that JoAnn had been involved with Z. I wasted a lot of time looking at the wrong things,” Susan admitted. “Of course, if I had been thinking, I would have started out wondering why Gwen wanted to work for me so much.”

  She frowned and continued. “Gwen was lucky that I got the flu early in the fall. Normally, I wouldn’t have been anxious to give up planning this party, but when I ran into Gwen in New York, I wasn’t feeling well. I was vulnerable. Her kindness was so welcome that when she suggested that The Holly and Ms. Ivy could take over my party, I felt only relief. And, looking back now, I realize that she actually pressured me to hire the company, telling me that she had heard of my parties, even exchanging recipes. It was flattering to think that she had heard about my parties or that it would help the reputation of her company to work for me—but completely foolish of me to believe it for a minute. The Holly and Ms. Ivy are a big deal. They have pictures of the rich and famous on their walls. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t have been interested in this type of party—or working for most of our friends in Hancock.

  “I must have been feeling dreadfully ill. It never even occurred to me to wonder why the most popular caterer on the East Coast was free for New Year’s Eve. A few days ago, Jed mentioned that a colleague couldn’t hire The Holly and Ms. Ivy to cater his daughter’s wedding—a wedding that’s still over six months off. I should have realized then that there was something strange going on. Normally The Holly and Ms. Ivy are booked solid months in advance.”

  “That’s true,” Brett added. “When my men started checking things out, they discovered that Gwen had canceled all their events for this past week. If we had checked into that earlier, we would have known s
omething was up.” Brett shook his head regretfully.

  Susan nodded. “And that wasn’t all. Gwen had another ace in the hole, so to speak. You see, Cameo had a crush on Z. She even tried to seduce him in her parent’s kitchen with other people around. Gwen certainly knew about it. She even got hold of a note that Cameo had written to try to convince Z to meet her at our house last year. So she put the note in Z’s pocket after she killed him, and she dropped a note of her own in our mail slot on Christmas Day. She knew I would get involved to protect my daughter—and of course, I didn’t understand any of this.

  “But Gwen had made a huge production out of a simple murder. She was relying on me not being able to untangle all the elements, not being able to separate the fact from the fiction.”

  “And then there was the food poisoning. That confused things all the more,” Brett explained.

  “I don’t understand about that yet,” Susan admitted. “I know Cameo’s behavior was so outlandish at this time last year that her parents sent her off to Europe so The Holly and Ms. Ivy could cater their party without risking a repeat of last year’s kitchen antics. And Gwen must have known that both of the Logans would be suspected of murdering Z. But Gwen was trying to protect the company’s reputation, and the food poisoning threatened to shut it down.…” She stopped talking, a confused expression on her face.

  “Maybe we can help you there,” Kathleen said, looking to Brett for confirmation.

  “He admitted it—privately. I don’t think we’ll ever get him to admit it publicly,” Brett said, nodding. He leaned closer to his audience and spoke quietly so he wouldn’t be overheard. “I just found out the truth a few minutes ago from Buck Logan himself. Once Gwen was arrested, he was ready to talk about what he and Camilla did.”

  “And you are going to tell us, aren’t you?” Susan insisted.

  “Apparently the Logans blamed Z for Cameo’s behavior last year, and they decided to get revenge by ruining the reputation of The Holly and Ms. Ivy.”

  “Are you saying that the food poisoning wasn’t an accident?” Susan asked.

  “Can someone intentionally cause food poisoning?” Jerry asked. “I wouldn’t think it’s like adding rat poison to someone’s food. And Kathleen did say that your lab had done tests.…”

  “That’s true,” Kathleen said. “But the Logans weren’t trying to kill anyone. They wanted to make one or two of their guests sick. So they chose the only guests they didn’t care about—Dan Irving and his vegetarian friend—and offered them special ‘healthy’ canapés. They weren’t healthy at all, of course. They were full of bacteria that made the couple ill.”

  “And they knew that Dan Irving and his guest were the only people who would be ill,” Susan said, nodding slowly. “I didn’t understand that immediately, although I thought it was strange when I went to see Buck in his office the day after the party, and he didn’t ask me how I had been feeling. If I gave a dinner party where some of the guests became ill, I’d certainly be concerned about everyone else who ate the same meal.” And she looked through the hallway into the living room, hoping there was nothing prophetic about any of her words.

  “But, of course, Buck was sure I hadn’t been ill—he didn’t even bother to act as though it were a possibility,” she continued. “Which it wasn’t. Dan and his guest hogged those particular canapés.”

  “What about the next night at the hospital benefit?” Jed asked. “Chrissy told me that a lot of people were ill.”

  “And wasn’t Dan Irving murdered in the hospital that night?” Jerry asked. “Smothered? People don’t accidently suffocate in a hospital bed, do they?”

  “It’s not unusual,” Brett said. “But people who know too much about one murder are, unfortunately, known to end up being victims of another. Sadly, it happens over and over. People never seem to learn how dangerous it is to keep secrets during murder investigations. It really is a waste,” he repeated, a serious look on his face.

  “Gwen killed him, too? I don’t understand,” Jed said. “Why, if the food poisoning had nothing to do with The Holly and Ms. Ivy?”

  “Because it did have to do with them ultimately,” Brett continued to explain. “It was the salt substitute that was full of bacteria. And Buck broke into the carriage house while his wife kept all the employees busy after the party; he put the poisoned salt substitute on the shelf there, too. Of course, he couldn’t know that Susan would appear at the carriage house before anyone else.”

  “Or that I would see his white Range Rover and confuse it with the one that someone else drives,” Susan added.

  “And so poor Dan Irving was poisoned with the same salt substitute again,” Brett said. “But this time the stress was too great for him, and he actually did have the heart attack that he had been expecting for so long. It was bad luck in more ways than one. He was also the only person who might realize that it was the healthy appetizers in both places that were making people sick. Gwen had already killed Z to get control of The Holly and Ms. Ivy; she killed Dan Irving to protect the reputation of the company.”

  “What a sad story,” Susan said.

  “I guess it is, but it’s all over now. It’s been one strange holiday season, but Gwen is going to be locked up for a long time. And I think we can safely say that there are a lot of talented chefs around to take up where The Holly and Ms. Ivy leaves off.”

  Susan looked around at the bright decorations, the wonderful food, and her happy guests. “I guess this is The Holly and Ms. Ivy’s last affair.”

  “And everyone seems to be enjoying it,” Kathleen said.

  “What’s that ringing?” Jerry asked, turning around.

  “It seems to be coming from the dining room,” Jed said, getting up.

  Susan glanced at her watch. “It’s eleven-fifteen. I’ll bet that’s Jamie letting us know dessert is ready.”

  “Then we’d better go gather our guests,” Jed suggested, helping his wife to her feet.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “It’s fantastic!” Susan exclaimed.

  “It’s symbolic,” Jamie explained.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kathleen said.

  “Let me explain it,” Jamie suggested, standing beside the large oval table she had set up in the dining room. “There are three levels.” She pointed to a towering display. “And each symbolizes a part of our world. The bottom is the sea. The middle area—the largest one—is the earth. And the top is the sky.

  “Now, for the sea level, I made cookies shaped like shells and coral. The sand is colored sugar, and the fans of sea grass are royal icing—edible but not terribly interesting.”

  “There’s even a treasure chest full of candy jewels,” Susan said, looking more closely.

  “That was great fun to make,” Jamie said enthusiastically, displaying the smile of an appreciated artist. “The first one I ever did was my graduation project at cooking school.

  “The middle level is the largest,” she continued. “That’s the earth. That was easy. Lots of fruit—tarts, candies, fruit-flavored mousses, fruitcakes, and puddings. All good food comes from the earth, so I just produced lots of my old favorites.

  “But the sky is the most interesting.…”

  “And the most impressive,” Jed insisted. “Look at those cookies shaped like tiny moons and comets, and the yellow meringue stars are amazing. And these little gold chocolate things …”

  “That’s real twenty-four-karat gold on the chocolates,” Jamie said. “Completely edible, and nothing else looks like it. They symbolize the planets in our solar system. See, there are even little rings around Saturn.”

  “Maybe we’d better stop admiring your work and let everyone sample some of it,” Susan suggested, moving away from the table.

  “And I should get back to the kitchen.” Jamie leaned closer to Susan. “We’re trying out your new cappuccino machine in there if you’d like some before the champagne.”

  Susan smiled and looked around the room. Everyone was having a good
time. “Go ahead and enjoy yourselves,” she insisted. “You all deserve it.”

  “So why,” Kathleen asked, coming up behind her as Jamie hurried off, “didn’t Chrissy introduce us to her charming young man before now?”

  “Because Klaus is such a nice open person that she knew we would find out about her going into the city last year if we started talking to him. She thought we wouldn’t approve of her crashing an unknown person’s party.” Susan chuckled.

  “If only she could have known how you were going to be spending this week.”

  “True. Well, it’s probably better that our children don’t know everything about us. I’m glad we finally did meet him. He’s a fine young man, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. They’re serious about each other, aren’t they?” Kathleen asked.

  Susan nodded. “I think so.”

  “Did he get her a ring that day in New York?”

  Susan laughed. “No. He got her a gigantic set of sable paintbrushes—and for an artist, that’s the equivalent of a ruby surrounded by emeralds. He wasn’t sure which manufacturer she preferred and …”

  “That’s why she had to pick out her own gift.”

  “Yes. And it’s nice that he’s encouraging her artwork,” Susan said.

  “He seems to be everything you could possibly want in a son-in-law,” Kathleen said.

  “She’s much too young,” Susan protested. “She hasn’t even finished her freshman year of college yet. I know,” she added, laughing at the look on Kathleen’s face, “it’s her life—and I have faith that she’s going to make the right decisions for herself.”

  “You just don’t want to start suffering from empty-nest syndrome,” Kathleen said.

  “There’s still Chad.…”

  “Who’s looking pretty grown-up tonight himself. I just saw him in the living room. Who’s the very sophisticated child in black that he’s with?”

  “Courtney Sawyer. She’s something, isn’t she?”