Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The (19 page)

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Authors: Krista Davis

Tags: #Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #General, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Cooks, #Large Type Books, #Cookery, #Mystery, #Divorced Women, #Cooking, #Divorced Women - Crimes Against, #Weddings, #Crimes Against, #Sisters

BOOK: Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The
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Jen bounced into my room full of energy. My admonitions to be quiet worked until we hit the kitchen. Jen bubbled with excitement about the fancy dress and shoes she would wear later in the day.
I asked her to set the table and put out some extra plates and silverware, because I wasn’t sure who might show up. Meanwhile, I put on coffee and tea, poured orange juice, and mixed flour, milk, eggs, and blueberries for pancakes.
In short order, spicy turkey sausages sizzled in a pan and the aroma of fresh coffee waltzed through the air.
Bernie tapped on the window in the kitchen door. Jen unlocked it and let him in and Daisy out while I spooned pancake batter onto the hot griddle.
Bernie poured coffee into persimmon Fiestaware mugs for us and fetched a pitcher of milk from the fridge.
I flipped pancakes onto a matching plate and handed it to him. “Thanks for being such a good sport and pitching in.”
He helped himself to sausages. “Mars is coming in a few minutes.”
I almost sliced myself with the knife I had picked up to cut a cantaloupe. “Mars? The man has two left hands.”
Bernie grinned and opened the door for Mars. Daisy trotted in behind him, followed by Hermione, Nina, and Humphrey. Mochie and Hermione touched noses, which appeared to satisfy both. Mochie jumped onto the window seat, waiting for his share of attention and, no doubt, a bite of turkey sausage.
Nina passed out tiny bags of kibble. “I want everyone to try to give Hermione treats today so she’ll get the idea that people can be good and she doesn’t have to be afraid.”
“Won’t that be too many treats?” asked Jen.
Nina smiled at her. “You’re gonna be a veterinarian, kiddo. It’s the kibble she would have eaten for breakfast with a teensy treat or two mixed in for variety.”
Bernie pocketed the kibble. “Sophie, when you call the chair rental guy, ask if they have some kind of arch we can use for the ceremony. It would make a big difference to have a backdrop.”
Nina held up her cell phone. “I hereby appoint myself vendor liaison. Bossing people around is one of my specialties.” I handed her the list of numbers and she dialed immediately. “Mars, would you bring me a cup of coffee? Milk and sugar, please.”
Mars sniffed the air. “I’m starved. Last night Nat insisted on a pretentious restaurant that served food the size of a quarter. They think they can charge more because they draw a design on the dish with a useless sauce the color of grass.”
Humphrey slumped next to Mochie. “Can’t we stop this disaster from taking place? What if we refused to help?”
Jen piped up, “But Aunt Hannah wants to get married.”
While I cut juicy mango and ripe kiwis to add to the fruit salad, Mars heaped pancakes onto plates and passed them to the others. “So what’s the plan?” he asked. “Nat will be over here to help a little later.”
Nina paused between mouthfuls. “Oh swell, a show! I missed the one at the hotel. What’s she going to set on fire this time?”
Still wielding the knife, I whirled toward Mars. “Call her right now and tell her she’s not needed. I’m not working like a maniac so she can come over and change everything.”
The furrow between Mars’s eyebrows deepened. “I think it would be good for her.”
“Mars, we wouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t canceled Carlyle House or taken those ridiculous fireworks to the hotel.”
“The fireworks weren’t her fault. Those boys who were running wild set them off. She couldn’t foresee that. She wanted to light them later, as a surprise for Hannah and Craig.”
I sighed and helped myself to pancakes. Natasha ought to feel responsible for the disaster at the hotel. I knew I would have. Mars probably thought it would make her feel better to contribute. It would be kind of me to put up with Natasha, but we were sticking to the original pink color scheme if I had to lock Natasha in the shed to do it. I plopped the bowl of fruit salad in the middle of the table, sat down, and poured blueberry syrup over my pancakes, glad Mom wasn’t up yet to pour on the guilt.
Craig strolled in, all smiles, and took some ribbing about his last day of freedom in a good-natured way. He sat down to eat but avoided my eyes when he asked, “Did you need something from my room last night, Sophie?”
TWENTY-THREE
From “THE GOOD LIFE”:
Dear Sophie,
I can’t believe the cost of flowers. Everyone says not to do them yourself, but I don’t see any way around that. Is it tacky to use flowers from my mother’s garden?
—Tossing the Bouquet in Basye
Dear Tossing,
It’s never tacky to use flowers from your garden! They don’t have to come from a florist to be beautiful. Time your wedding to coincide with flowers you love. On the day before the wedding, invite friends to an informal flower-arranging party. Use seashells, marbles, or glass vase gems to weigh the vases down so they won’t tip over. For a country wedding, choose canning jars and wildflowers. There’s no end to the possibilities—wicker baskets, terra-cotta bowls, tiny galvanized buckets, or wrap empty tin cans with anything from satin ribbons to bundled twigs.
—Sophie
I nearly choked on a pancake. Was that Craig’s oh-so-subtle way of telling me he’d noticed that I went through his closet before he left?
“No.” I hoped I sounded convincing. After all, I hadn’t snooped in his room since his return—though his question made me wonder if I should.
“The door to that little cabinet in the corner was open, I thought it might have been you.”
It certainly hadn’t been me, but that news, coupled with the fact that I’d found my nightstand drawer open, suggested that someone was looking for something. Someone too sloppy or too hurried to bother closing everything. Darby and Craig’s father had both been in his room at some point. I looked up at Craig, who was already laughing about an incident at dinner the night before. Was he devious enough to make this announcement in front of people so we wouldn’t suspect him of snooping in my bedroom?
The rumble of a truck and screeching brakes signaled the arrival of the party rental delivery van. Carrying my cup of coffee with me, I went out the front door and something hard smacked me in the forehead. I stumbled, but even though I regained my footing, coffee spilled down my shirt. I looked back, rubbing my head. Someone had hung a rosary from the door frame. Of all the silly things. I snatched it down and left it on the console in the foyer. My head still smarted as I ventured out to the street to show them the way to the garden.
Bernie met us in the backyard with a diagram. “I ran up a plan last night.”
Bernie never ceased to amaze me. His general appearance probably made me underestimate him. He reminded me of a grown-up Dennis the Menace. Spunky, sweet, and more clever than anyone might suspect.
He took over, and in minutes two neat rows of white garden chairs began to form. I verified the presence of a runner but told them we would roll it out after the rest of the work had been completed.
My heart sank when the delivery guys hauled in the wedding arch. It was the right size, but that was the only thing about it that worked. Finished in matte bronze that looked more like rust, the top arched in swirls that ended in a gaudy heart. Somehow, I didn’t think that was what Hannah had in mind when she’d asked for a garden wedding. But it was too late to make changes. It was that arch or none at all. I tried to look at the bright side. Hannah and Craig would have some unbelievable wedding stories to tell their children.
I set up the ladder in the potting shed so I could reach storage boxes. Carrying a coffee mug, Mars arrived just in time for me to hand him an enormous box of Christmas lights and tiny fairy lights on white strings. When I climbed down, he moved the ladder so he could change the bulb in the overhead light.
“Be careful,” I cautioned as he climbed up. Mars wasn’t exactly the handiest guy. I held the replacement bulb to give him in exchange for the one that had burned out.
“That’s odd, it was loose like the other one. Try the switch.”
I flicked the switch and the light came on.
Mars shook his head like I was incompetent and began the descent. His foot slipped off a tread and I rushed toward the ladder to prevent him from falling. He slid into my waiting arms and stopped.
For a long moment, we stood in a horribly familiar clutch. The scent of his skin evoked a rush of memories, and it felt like the world had dissolved and left just the two of us.
A discreet cough from the doorway caused us to jump apart. Wolf leaned against the door frame. “Sorry to interrupt.”
To make matters worse, Wanda stood next to him.
“We were changing the lightbulb . . .” My voice faded under their disbelieving glares. I still held the lightbulb we hadn’t needed. Painfully aware of what they must have been thinking, I set it on the table and picked up the box of lights. Wolf and Wanda parted as I walked toward them, but I knew that one innocent moment would cost Mars and me.
When I emerged, Bernie seized lights for the wedding arch and Kevin showed up. Craig and Kevin took the rest of the lights and started stringing them overhead.
I motioned to Wolf to follow me. The walk across the lawn and into the kitchen was so awkward, it felt like miles. I was desperately trying to think of an explanation for what Wolf had seen, but everything seemed lame.
Mom was putting away the last of the breakfast dishes when we entered the kitchen. She winked at me, clueless about Wolf and me. I hurried to the drawer and, to my utter shock, found it hanging open.
“Why is this open?” I blurted.
“I guess you left it that way, sweetheart,” Mom said, drying a plate.
My heart thudded in my chest as I lifted the lid on the icing-tip box where I’d stashed the evidence. Fortunately, whoever had gone through the drawer hadn’t found it. I handed it to Wolf as Mom looked on.
“You didn’t touch it?” he asked.
“No. And we left a ribbon to mark the spot where we found it.”
“You realize that you were compromising a crime scene by going behind the yellow tape.”
I explained that we did not enter the area marked off by yellow tape and that Daisy had alerted us to the item in the alley.
He held up the packet, and Mom studied it. Even Mochie jumped to the counter to peer at it. Wolf stuffed the package into his pocket and ran a hand over Mochie’s gleaming fur. “I doubt that it has anything to do with Emily’s death. My men did a thorough sweep. They would have seen it.”
“Are you saying someone put it there afterward? Like to throw everyone off?” asked Mom.
“I don’t think we’ll even be that lucky. It was probably there for years and no one noticed.”
“Impossible,” I pronounced before realizing that contradicting Wolf’s professional opinion probably wasn’t the way to endear myself to him. “It’s sterling silver, it would have tarnished.”
“How do you know it’s sterling silver?” asked Wolf.
Mom laughed. “My girls know their jewelry. It would be marked 925.”
He pulled the package out and peered at the necklace. His gaze flicked to me and I knew he’d found the sterling mark. He tucked it away again and let out a long, slow sigh. Saying good-bye very politely, Wolf let himself out the kitchen door, and I had the horrible feeling that my last chance at dating him had just burst like a soap bubble.
When I returned to the backyard, Craig was proudly handing out the knives he’d purchased for the men in the wedding party and, to my surprise, they turned out to be very practical for cutting ribbons and wires.
Dad planted shepherd’s hooks along both sides of the aisle between the chairs and hung baskets of hot pink gerbera daisies I’d ordered from a local nursery.
Prompted by a desperate call from Nina, my favorite florist showed up early with flowers for Bernie and Dad to twine onto the ghastly arch.
I stopped by the potting shed to retrieve the coffee mugs Mars and I had left there and found Joel looking around, a large shovel in his hands. “Planting something?” I teased.
Joel returned the shovel to the corner and leaned the handle against the wall. “Nosing around, actually. Do you think the shed predates the house?” He walked out with me and gazed up at my house. “It’s just so cool to think that people lived here during the Civil War.”
I asked for a hand and cringed when Mars volunteered. He followed me to the kitchen to deposit the mugs and then to the basement. I debated whether to bring up that awkward moment earlier, but in the end, he didn’t say anything about it and I chickened out. We both knew it was nothing and best left alone. We found boxes of mirrors and crystals hung on clear filament that I had used at a formal black and white function, but when we emerged from the basement, Natasha waited in my kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, her face taut.
Wanda must have told her about Mars and me in the shed. I collected myself and waited for her to yell at us for being alone together in the basement.

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