Death of a Christmas Caterer (10 page)

Chapter 18

“Would you be interested in purchasing a set of our snowcapped, cone-shaped pines for your Christmas village, Mrs. Powell?” Connie Sparks asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Hayley had only moments before asked Connie if she would confirm that she was having an affair with the late Garth Rawlings.

Connie's face turned red with embarrassment and her skin matched most of the decor in Mrs. Claus's Christmas Village Shop, where she worked as a seasonal employee during the holidays.

Hayley knew the owner of the shop, Cindy Callahan, a former Delta Airlines flight attendant who retired to Bar Harbor and bought the Starfish Diner. Cindy's impressive business know-how had turned the failing coffee shop around, and it was now a must stop for the locals, who flocked to the diner for a plate of the famous blueberry pancakes and a cup of fresh coffee. Not one just to sit around and savor her success, Cindy rented some space next door and opened a holiday shop that specialized in Christmas decorations. Cindy loved Christmas villages and so she made sure to stock the place with sets that included such village staples as Santa's workshop, the Holiday Bed-and-Breakfast, churches, bridges, and a bakery. There was also a handcrafted limited-edition electric train for sale, which circled around the store over a bridge and through a tunnel and back around again.

“Did you hear what I said, Connie?” Hayley asked, folding her arms.

Connie nodded and then reached down and picked up a porcelain figurine. “We have Rudolph for sale. And if you buy all of the other reindeer, we can give you a ten percent discount.”

“Connie—”

“Please, Mrs. Powell, don't ask me that again!”

There was a brief silence, interrupted only by the train whistling as it passed by them.

“If you don't talk to me, you're going to have to talk to Chief Alvares.”

“What?” Connie gasped. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the poor Rudolph figurine and it smashed into pieces on the floor.

“I asked him to let me come speak with you first because I know how traumatic it might be for you if Chief Alvares hauled you into the police station for questioning. Someone could spot you in the back of the squad car or see you being led into the station, and then you would have to endure all that speculation as to why you were arrested.”

“
Arrested?
I'm going to be arrested?”

“Oh, no, of course not. But you know how gossip flies around in this town.”

“I know what I did wasn't right, but I didn't break the law,” Connie said, nervously twisting her bright red curly hair around her finger.

“So you admit you were having an affair with Garth Rawlings?”

Another long silence.

And then more whistling as the train passed by again.

Connie finally nodded.

“And he had a key to the warehouse made for you so you two could rendezvous there. You just pretended to be a catering client so as not to arouse suspicion.”

Connie nodded again.

She pulled a wadded-up tissue out of the side pocket of the Christmas wreath holiday sweater she was wearing and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks before blowing her nose with a loud honk.

“He didn't want anyone finding out about us. He was worried about his image because he was trying to market himself as the ‘Family Man Chef.' He had the whole thing planned out—TV show, cookbooks, a kitchenware line with Macy's. It would be inconvenient if people found out he was cheating on his wife and sleeping with a girl half his age.”

“That must have been very difficult for you.”

Connie shook her head and wiped her nose. “I didn't mind. I loved him. I know he had a temper and could rub people the wrong way, but he was very kind to me and made me feel special.”

“Did you see him on the night he died?”

“No. He told me he had too much to do preparing for his weekend parties and opening up the warehouse to the public for Midnight Madness. I knew he had hired you to help him, so I made sure to steer clear.”

“So you were nowhere near the warehouse that night? You never used your key to let yourself inside at any point?”

“No. I was at home with my roommate. She'll vouch for me. We decorated our little tree and then made sugar cookies and watched some old cheesy Christmas movie rerun on Hallmark or Lifetime with Tori Spelling.”

“Did you lend anyone your key?”

“No. I had it on me the whole time.”

Hayley's cell phone chirped.

She checked the caller ID.

It was Sergio.

“Excuse me, Connie, I need to take this.”

Hayley walked a few feet away, trying to get out of Connie's earshot.

She answered the call and talked in a hushed tone. “Hey, Sergio. I'm with Connie Sparks now. She says she was home with her roommate the night of Garth's murder. So, if you want me to follow up and talk to the roommate—”

“You don't have to. She's telling you the truth.”

“How do you know?”

“I'm at the Grand Hotel, which has security cameras setup outside. The warehouse is directly across the street, so the cameras pick up everyone coming and going. I just finished looking at all of the footage. Connie Sparks was never there that night.”

“What about Lex's crew next door? Did they ever come outside for any reason?”

“No. They were inside their own office the whole time and never had any interaction with Garth.”

“So they're telling the truth too. They were playing music and drinking and didn't hear a thing.”

“The only two people the camera picks up outside the warehouse is Garth letting himself in, around eleven in the morning, and then you showing up around seven that evening when Garth Rawlings was already dead. No one else ever entered or exited Garth's kitchen space the whole day.”

“Then who could have killed him? The Ghost of Christmas Past?”

“Who's that? Do you have any contact information for that person?”

How do you say in Portuguese that it's
A Christmas Carol
reference?

“Never mind. I'll see you later for dinner.”

Hayley ended the call and turned back to Connie, who was pretending not to listen while she rearranged some figurines of children skating on an ice rink in the village set up as a window display.

“You're in the clear, Connie. The chief is not going to need to question you.”

“Thank you, Hayley.”

Hayley smiled at her. “Merry Christmas.”

She was halfway to the door when Connie spoke up. “I could never do anything to hurt Garth. He seemed so strong on the outside, but inside he was very sensitive.”

Hayley found that hard to believe, but why argue? “I'm sure he was.”

“I loved him. I wanted to protect him. He had been hurt enough already.”

That stopped Hayley.

She spun around.

“What do you mean by that? Who hurt him?”

“That awful wife of his,” Connie spat out.

“Tiffany?”

“Yes. That coldhearted bitch broke his heart. Garth and I were just friends at first, but then he confided in me what he was going through, and I helped him through the pain of his wife's betrayal. It was only later that we developed romantic feelings for each other—when Garth knew his marriage was basically over.”

“You're telling me Tiffany cheated on him
first
?”

Connie's eyes narrowed as she vigorously nodded her head.

“With whom? Can you tell me a name?”

“No. Garth never mentioned a name.”

Hayley sighed. “Okay.”

“Just that they were former business partners.”

The grieving widow was sleeping with the ex-business partner with a grudge.

The whole case was starting to come into focus in a big way.

But the million-dollar question remained.

If Ken and Tiffany did conspire to kill Garth for his budding cooking empire, how on earth did they do it?