Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The (31 page)

Read Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The Online

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
12.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
I closed the door and leaned against it.
Disaster area
barely described my house. Dishes threatened to topple in the sink and coffee mugs cluttered the counters. I wandered, wondering what to do first. Long rental tables still crowded the living room. Darby had straightened up the den, but boxes of Natasha’s plates and coffee carafes littered the floor and the gigantic heart topiary sat on the desk.
I grabbed the pillowcase that Darby had stuffed with her sheets. Balancing the box containing Natasha’s coffee carafes, I made my way through the sunroom, tossing the glass diamond paperweights inside. I couldn’t imagine why Natasha thought they would be appropriate for single men. The heavy diamonds slid in the box and it almost flipped. Leaving the rest for another trip, I passed through the family room to the door that led to the basement. Mochie sat in front of it, studying the crack underneath as though he’d spun something through it. I opened the door and descended six steps. Balancing the box carefully, I tossed the bag of linens down to be washed.
I grasped the box with both hands and turned. And from the dark beneath me, someone grabbed my ankle. I screamed as I fell. The box tumbled and I flailed, grasping for a hold that would prevent the weight on my ankle from tugging me farther down. Instinctively, I knew that disappearing into my basement would be the end of me.
Clawing at the stairs, I struggled to propel myself upward with my free foot. In the dim light that filtered through the open doorway, something glittered on a step inches from my fingers. Glass? Could I use it to defend myself? I strained for it and closed my fingers around a ring. Hannah’s engagement ring. I slid it onto my middle finger but it was too tight. Wearing it below my first knuckle, I twisted, made a fist, and punched my hand into the head of the person below me.
It was a bad move. He seized my other ankle and I could only hold my position by wrenching myself around and hanging on with my hands.
I could feel him moving upward. I needed something, anything, as a weapon. I felt around with my right hand and encountered one of Natasha’s ridiculous glass diamonds. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
Summoning strength, I twisted abruptly. The top of a pantyhose-covered head neared my hips. That stocking-clad head scared me more than anything else. Whoever he was, he’d planned this.
I slammed the glass diamond onto his skull with all the force I could muster. He grunted, and for a split second the grip on my ankles loosened. I flipped onto my stomach, and was trying to scramble upward when I heard Natasha’s voice.
“Sophie? Sophie! I know you’re here.”
Hearing another voice, the man propelled himself over me, stepping squarely on my shoulder. I heard him dash to the sunroom and out the door. Slowly I dragged myself up to the landing at the top of the stairs, my heart pounding. “Here, Natasha.”
Doggy breath assaulted me and Daisy licked my face.
“Sophie? What are you doing? Did you break my diamonds? Oh, and my coffee carafes, too?”
“Someone was hiding in the basement. He grabbed me.”
“Are you okay?”
She helped me stand and I limped into the kitchen. Collapsing into one of the fireside chairs, I said, “See if there are any bags of peas left in the freezer.”
“Peas? You want to cook peas? You can barely stand.” Hands on her hips, Natasha glanced around. “Is he still in the basement?”
“I think he ran out.”
“Daisy would have found him by now if he were still here.”
Daisy nuzzled me as though she sensed something was wrong. Her leash trailed on the floor.
“Just bring me the peas, please.”
Natasha opened my freezer. “This is such a mess. How can you find anything? You should arrange your freezer according to food. Vegetables go in one bin, and meats should be together on a shelf. Oh, here they are.”
I punched the bag of peas to loosen them up and was immediately sorry. I still wore Hannah’s ring and had evidently hit my intruder hard enough to bruise my finger. I hoped the diamond had made a dent in his skull, but I doubted it.
“Are you sure you were attacked? You don’t look any different. Your dress is a mess, but that’s nothing new.”
Holding the peas to my throbbing head, I assessed my ankles. Ugly red marks were starting to turn blue.
Hermione dashed through the kitchen, her leash clacking on the floor. “What are you doing here, anyway? Where is Mars?”
Natasha’s dark eyes sparked. “I suppose you were planning to walk the dogs together? He brought them to our house and while he went up to change, I hurried them home to you. I can’t have them destroying my house. It doesn’t matter here at your place.”
Frankly, I’d rather have Daisy and Mochie than a clean floor, but I was too shaken to take her on.
My thoughts returned to the intruder. Natasha and Mars had a key to my house, but how did the intruder enter? “I think I should call Wolf.”
Natasha immediately brought me the phone, saying, “I’ll clean up the kitchen. We don’t want him thinking you’re a poor housekeeper. Just don’t let him look in your freezer.” She checked the time. “Maybe I can reorganize it before he arrives.”
Like Wolf would be interested in my freezer. I started to lash out at her but stopped. At the moment, the last thing I wanted was to be alone. Having two dogs and Natasha in the house made me feel safer.
I phoned the police station, told them what happened, and asked them to relay the message to Wolf. Then I slumped back in the chair and closed my eyes. I could hear Natasha shooing away Daisy and Hermione and the sound of a broom whisking chunks of glass into a dustpan.
I sat up. “Stop cleaning! The cops need to see it untouched.”
“Too late.” Natasha dumped the contents of the dustpan into my trash. She peered out the window over the sink. “They’re so prompt. Oh. It’s that’s dreadful Kenner fellow. Pity.”
She opened the door for him before he knocked, and he strode into the kitchen, stopping in front of me. “Well, well. I hear Little Red Riding Hood wanted the Big Bad Wolf to come rescue her.”
“Is it standard police procedure to poke fun when citizens need police assistance?”
He bent toward me. “You aren’t acting wounded.”
I struggled to my feet, sore all over, showed him to the basement stairs, and explained what happened.
Kenner switched on the light and explored while I waited upstairs. When he returned, he said, “I don’t see any signs of a struggle. You do know that it’s a crime to make a false report to the police?”
Was he implying that I’d made up the entire thing? I pointed to my ankles, which had morphed to an impressive shade of blue. But when he turned his eyes on my legs, goose bumps rose on my arms and I was sorry I’d ever suggested such a thing.
“Where is this vicious guy now?”
I could feel Kenner taking in every detail and suddenly had a strong aversion to giving him license to snoop through my house. Not that I had anything to hide, I just didn’t like the guy or his attitude.
“I guess he left.” I sounded like a feeble child who’d been lectured.
I guess he left?
That was the best I could do? “Thanks for coming.”
In the kitchen, Natasha squealed. Kenner and I barged around the corner, expecting to see the intruder. But we only saw Natasha pulling dishwashing gloves off her perfectly manicured hands as she said, “Sorry, Sophie. I have to go. Right now.”
She fled to the front door, and Kenner muttered, “Me, too. By the way, if I were you, I wouldn’t bug Wolf with so many phone calls,” said Kenner. “But you can call me any old time.”
I was tempted to slam the door behind him, but as he walked away, I saw Natasha and Mars arguing on the sidewalk. Mars held a can of tennis balls and gestured angrily. When he strode toward my house, Natasha watched him, her hands on her hips.
Mars jogged up to my front door. “Daisy! Hermione!”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” The dogs loped over to him. He hugged Daisy, taking longer than normal, and I wondered if he needed her affection.
“Before you go, someone was lurking in my basement. Would you mind looking around upstairs to be sure no one is here?”
“Sure. C’mon, girls.” Mars and the dogs were halfway up the stairs when he stopped and said, “What do you mean someone was in the basement?”
I told him what happened and after assuring him I would be fine, he headed upstairs to check things out.
I turned the dead bolt on the front door and did a quick check of the downstairs to calm my nerves. Mochie buzzed through the dining room and sprang onto the living room sofa. He crouched like a little tiger, his tail twitching. I cut through the den to the sunroom, where the kneehole of the desk provided the only hiding place. Mochie leaped to the desk, skidded past the topiary, flew off the other side, and pranced into the sunroom. That left the small family room, but it was empty.
I intended to tackle the mound of dishes in the kitchen, but when I placed Hannah’s ring on the windowsill over the sink, I saw Natasha waiting on the sidewalk. She glanced at her watch and, judging from her expression, was sorely irritated.
Breathless, Mars bounded into the kitchen. “All secure upstairs.”
“Natasha appears to be waiting for you.”
He peered out the window. “She can wait all day for all I care.” He grabbed the leashes. “Are you okay alone?”
The dogs needed a good run, and Mars had made sure no one hid upstairs. I would not let one idiot cause me to be fearful in my own home. I straightened my shoulders and tried to appear confident. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Mars started for the sunroom. “I’ll let myself out the back gate.”
“You can’t go through the backyard, it’s still under police tape.”
I heard the sunroom door close. My ankles were starting to bother me, but I limped back and locked the door to be on the safe side. Through the sunroom windows, I saw Mars and the dogs charging through the backyard despite my warning.
As the gate slammed, the jingle of Darby’s phone came from the den. I hurried back on aching ankles, hoping it might be Darby calling to find out where she’d left her phone.
I punched a button and breathlessly said, “Hello?”
A woman responded. “Donata? That you, girl?”
THIRTY-SIX
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
I bought my best friend a kitchen appliance that was listed on her wedding registry. I know she’ll appreciate it, but it feels so cold. How can I make a toaster oven more personal?
—Maid of Honor in Mayesville
Dear Maid of Honor,
Create your own wrapping paper and special card. Use craft paper as a base. Cover with paint, then add her new monogram freehand, or cut a sponge in the shape of her monogram and use it all over the paper. Or make copies of photographs of the happy couple and paste them on the paper. Use a feather to swirl silver and gold paint around the photos and she’ll know you put a lot of thought and love into her gift.
—Natasha
Donata again. I cleared my throat and asked, “Who are you calling, please?”
The voice apologized for reaching a wrong number and hung up. But I knew she didn’t have a wrong number. Telling myself that Darby might have borrowed her friend’s phone, I returned to the living room, where wedding gifts were heaped on a table.
Unless Hannah changed her mind about Craig again, all of the packages would be going back. Remembering what Darby had said about meeting Phoebe when she bought Hannah’s wedding gift, I moved the packages to the floor, in search of the present from Phoebe.
I recognized her handwriting on the envelope of an attached card and tugged off the white satin ribbon that encircled wrapping paper with an elegant silver and gold print. It was almost too pretty to destroy but I tore it and easily found the store’s return receipt. Exactly what I’d hoped for—a phone number. Back in the den, I called the store, wondering what I would say if Darby actually came to the phone. I didn’t think she would work today right after her return, but it was a possibility.
When I asked for Darby Beacham, I was told no one by that name worked there. My heart sinking, I asked for Donata Franchini. Donata, the voice said, was off. I should call back tomorrow. That settled it. Darby Beacham had lied to us, and so had Craig. Why would she use a false name, and why would he go along with it?
I turned to the computer and searched Donata’s name, but this time I added Lina’s name. Nothing. And Lina’s name alone brought up too many results to be worthwhile. Then I typed Lina’s name along with the name Emily Beacham. An article from a Vancouver newspaper came up about a nurse named Emily Beacham who had participated in medical missions around the world, including a place called Santa Lina. Beacham was married to a doctor. A little searching in the Vancouver phone directory led to a number for Craig and Emily Beacham in Vancouver. I felt sick to my stomach. Surely it couldn’t be the same Craig. I called the number and held my breath.

Other books

Starbound by Dave Bara
Zona zombie by David Moody
Songbird by Jamie Campbell
Buffet for Unwelcome Guests by Christianna Brand
George Eliot by Kathryn Hughes