Authors: Jacklyn Brady

Tags: #Mystery

Arsenic and Old Cake (34 page)

BOOK: Arsenic and Old Cake

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“And what about the professor?”

“Sullivan told me that Grey’s condition has been upgraded to stable. He’ll remain under a doctor’s care for a while, and the district attorney is going to ask the judge to be lenient when it comes to sentencing in light of his advanced age and his health issues.”

Gabriel’s expression went from Sexy Cajun to Volcanic Eruption in a blink. “Lenient? Are you kidding me? The guy is certifiable. He shot Tyrone, he poisoned Dontae, and he would have killed you if he hadn’t keeled over.”

My independent streak reared its ugly head, but I shoved it down again. Everything he said was true, and I couldn’t blame him for being concerned. “He’s also eighty-two years old. I don’t think prison with a bunch of gangbangers and meth heads is the answer for him.”

“I don’t see why not. It would give him a steady supply of underprivileged youth to perform for.”

“They’re not talking about letting him go free,” I said. “They’re going to ask that he spend the rest of his life under a doctor’s care.”

“If by
doctor
you mean
psychiatrist
, that might be okay. The man’s dangerous, Rita. He shouldn’t just be allowed to walk away after what he did.”

I held up both hands in surrender. “Again, I don’t disagree. I just don’t think it makes sense to throw a sick old man into the general prison population. I hope they can find a compromise that works for everyone.”

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.” The music stopped, and Gabriel pushed away from the bar.

I reached for his hand before he could get away. “Thanks for caring, Gabriel. I mean that.” Neither of us moved for a few seconds until another group of patrons entered the bar, Gabriel pulled his hand away. “Duty calls. They’ll be starting their set soon. What can I get you?”

How about one of your incredible margaritas?” I said, reaching for my wallet.

“On the house,” Gabriel said, patting the bar in front of him a couple of times. “Call it a divorce present.”

A smile spread across my face. “Let’s not get a divorce,” I said. “Let’s go straight for an annulment.”

He laughed and his tension evaporated. “Ouch, that hurts. My ego may never be the same.”

“You were a pain in the butt as a husband,” I said. “But it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Right up to the part where you almost died. No man should lose his wife before the marriage is even consummated. It’s not right.”

“Ah! I see where your priorities lie.”

He waved me off. “Go. Sit with your crew. I’ll send your drink over.” He jerked his chin toward several tables pushed together near the dance floor, where I saw that the Zydeco staff had all congregated.

Grinning from ear to ear, I made my way across the bar. I grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and carried it with me the rest of the way. Isabeau greeted me with a little wave, and Ox gave me a manly nod. Sparkle rolled her eyes in my direction and looked away slowly, and Estelle shouted, “Rita’s here y’all!” in case someone hadn’t noticed.

Dwight scooted over a bit to make room for me, and I wedged my chair between his and Edie’s.

I thought I spotted dark circles under her eyes, but she greeted me with a smile, so maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“How did your meeting with Miss Frankie and her attorney go?” she asked.

“It went well,” I said. “Now we just have to cross our fingers and hope for a quick sale.”

“How likely is that to happen?”

“No idea. It could take a while, but at least we’re doing something to improve the situation . . . right?”

She shrugged.

I pressed on. “Just don’t give up on me, okay? You can’t leave Zydeco.”

She turned her head slowly. This time I was sure about the shadows beneath her eyes. Was she ill or just tired? “You don’t need me, Rita. You don’t even really like me. You only put up with me because of Philippe.”

I stared at her with my mouth wide open. “Is that what you really think?”

She stared back. “Are you trying to claim that we’re friends?”

I wouldn’t have said
friends
, but we’d been friendly—sort of.

Okay, she was right. Philippe had
liked
her; I’d
tolerated
her, usually in an annoyed manner because of the thing she had for Philippe way back when. He hadn’t shared her feelings, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d had them.

But as the folks at the Love Nest would say, that was all water under the bridge. And that’s what I told her.

She ducked her head, probably embarrassed to find out that I’d known how she felt all along. “Nothing happened between us, you know.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still at Zydeco.” I grinned.

Her porcelain-doll lips quirked ever so slightly, but her eyes were still glazed with worry. The cocktail waitress interrupted us to bring my margarita, and I took a sip. Sweetly sour. Icy cold. A perfect rim of salt. Gabriel was so much more than just a pretty face.

“What if we can’t pull Zydeco out of this hole?” Edie asked, jarring me from my private margarita moment.

“We will,” I assured her.

“But what if we can’t?”

“We
will
,” I said again. “Miss Frankie’s property will sell just in time. We’ll get the money we need just in time. We’ll get the customers we need to stay afloat between now and then, and we’ll be fine.”

Edie’s lips twitched again. “I think you’re being naïve.”

The band took the stage again, and the lead singer, an aging guy with a long gray ponytail and a Fu Manchu moustache that would have put Fu himself to shame, introduced Old Dog Leg and his brother Monroe.

We fell silent and listened to them play. Despite all the years I spent with Philippe, it wasn’t until I’d moved here to New Orleans that I’d really begun to learn about jazz, and though I couldn’t name the first two numbers they played, at least the tunes sounded familiar. I counted that as a personal milestone—proof that I was acclimating to life in the Big Easy.

As they started the third song, Edie nudged me with her elbow and leaned close to shout in my ear. “I don’t know if I can wait.”

I dragged my attention away from the music and frowned at her. “Why not?”

“It’s a bad time,” she shouted. But the music was too loud, and her voice faded in and out. “. . . need a stable income . . . can’t be without benefits right now . . . it’s going to be rough . . .”

I cupped a hand around my ear to indicate that I hadn’t understood, and then tried again to plead for patience. “Stick with me, Edie. Please. If we succeed, we succeed as a team. If we fail, at least we go down fighting.”

She shook her head and said something back to me, but the music swallowed her words again.

I shook my head again and mouthed, “Later.”

But she seemed determined to make me understand. “I wish . . . don’t have time.”

That got my attention. “Why? What do you need? Tell me and I’ll find a way to get it for you.”

She sighed with frustration and put both hands to her mouth. Just as the music died away, she bellowed, “I’m
pregnant
!”

People sitting a couple of tables away burst into spontaneous applause. The reaction at Zydeco’s table was a bit more delayed. Dwight swore. Ox tipped back his head and laughed. Isabeau bounded out of her seat and wrapped Edie in an enthusiastic hug, and Estelle called over a cocktail waitress so she could order a round for the table.

Sparkle and I remained quiet. I was trying to figure out what I’d do with nine months of Edie fueled by emotions and hormone surges. Sparkle was apparently pondering something more concrete.

“Who’s the father?” she asked when everyone settled down again.

Good question. I never would have asked that—at least not now, at the Duke, with everyone listening in. I hadn’t even been aware that Edie was dating anyone. But that didn’t stop me from holding my breath while I waited for the answer.

Edie waved away the question. “Nobody you know.”

“Are you going to keep it?” Sparkle asked.

Edie frowned at her. “Yeah. I am. Do you have a problem with that?”

Sparkle actually smiled. “Naw. I love kids.”

“The point is,” Edie said, turning back to me, “I need things to be stable in my life right now. I have to know I can pay my rent and that I’m not going to lose my health insurance. I kind of need it right now.”

I gulped another mouthful of margarita and sent her my very best smile. “You can pay your rent, and you’ll have insurance. I promise.” And then I put my arm around her shoulders and said, “You’re going to be okay, Edie. We’ll make sure of it.” I looked at the others for backup, and bless their hearts, every person at the table gave it.

Edie grabbed a wad of napkins from the center of the table and pressed them to her eyes, and beneath my arm her shoulders began to shake.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I told her what I’d want someone to tell me under the same circumstances. It’s all I could do.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said again. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll look out for you and for the baby. We’re family at Zydeco, and that’s what family does.”

Edie pulled the napkins away from her eyes and sniffed loudly. She gulped hard, then gave a little laugh that might have been relief and threw her arms around my neck.

I could feel hot tears on my shoulder as I looked around the table at my staff. They were watching me carefully, listening to every word I said and filing away the promises I’d just made for future reference. They’d hold me to them and keep my feet on the ground. I could see it in their faces. But that’s also what family does.

I had no idea how I was going to keep the promises I’d just made, but as I looked into the eyes of my friends, I knew I’d find a way.

The important thing was I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Recipes

Blueberry Sour Cream Coffee Cake

Yields one 9-inch Bundt cake

This is a delicious if admittedly less-than-healthy coffee cake. It’s been a family favorite for years. Adjust the bake time to a bit longer if you’re using frozen berries.

1 cup butter, softened

2 cups white sugar

2 eggs

1 cup sour cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 ½ cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

¹/
4
teaspoon salt

1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries

¹/
2
cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

¹/
2
cup chopped pecans

1 tablespoon confectioners’ sugar for dusting

Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease and flour a 9-inch Bundt pan.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the sour cream and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt; stir the flour mixture into the wet ingredients until just blended. Fold in the blueberries.

Spoon half of the batter into the prepared pan. In a small bowl, stir together the brown sugar, cinnamon, and pecans. Sprinkle half of this mixture over the batter in the pan. Spoon the remaining batter over the pecan mixture, and then sprinkle the remaining pecan mixture over the top. Use a knife or thin spatula to swirl the pecan-sugar layer into the cake.

Bake for 55 to 60 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a knife inserted into the crown of the cake comes out clean. Cool in the pan on a wire rack. Invert the cake pan onto a serving plate, and tap firmly to remove the cake from the pan. Dust with confectioners’ sugar just before serving.

* * *

White Chocolate Raspberry Cake

FOR THE CAKE