Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The (34 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
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I smiled at his enthusiasm. “You’re welcome to come for a visit any time.” As soon as the invitation slipped out of my mouth, I wondered if I’d invited a killer. He was so sweet, I figured Tucker’s theory was wrong, but you never know.
I eased into the topic, hoping I wouldn’t put him on guard. “Tucker told me about your dad and the family business. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” The corners of Joel’s mouth quivered and he seemed like a kid trying to gain control of his emotions. “That was an awful time for us. My mother’s parents worked hard to make their corner jewelry store a success. Losing it was crushing, but when my dad died, that sent us all in a tailspin. My sister and I grew up in the store. We never imagined we would do anything else.”
“What does your sister do now?”
“She works at a mall jewelry store.” He shrugged. “It’s a job.”
“Tucker said the courier went to pick up pink diamonds.” I tossed the line out there casually as I handed him a mug of coffee. “They never showed up anywhere? The jewelry world has to be pretty small when it comes to high-ticket items.”
“That’s the irony of it all. We would have heard if the stones started turning up anyplace. Those thugs ruined my family and got nothing out of it.”
If I had been alone, I wouldn’t have asked him the next question, but I had plenty of company in the house. I set sugar and milk on the table and chose my words carefully, so he wouldn’t think I was accusing him of anything. “Do you think the stone in Hannah’s ring came from the robbery?”
Joel dragged his hands down over his mouth. “I wondered if Craig was involved the minute I saw Hannah’s engagement ring. It’s the kind of stone movie stars and the ridiculously wealthy buy. It’s remotely possible he bought it for her, but I don’t think so.”
Deep in my heart, I knew anyone could kill, but even though Joel had the strength, there was a softness about him. A gentleness. I could imagine him bouncing a copper-haired baby on his knee and hosting backyard cookouts.
“Tucker knew about the ring and the heist, too. If you want my opinion, he killed Stan to get revenge for what happened to my father. Tucker and my dad were real close. He thinks Stan was one of the thieves.”
“You really think Tucker could have killed Stan?”
“I don’t want to believe it. But Tucker’s always been a bit of an enigma, and it’s hard to know what someone might be capable of. There is a lot that points to him. Motive, means, opportunity. And just between the two of us, I didn’t see him sleeping in the sunroom.”
THIRTY-NINE
From “THE GOOD LIFE ONLINE”:
Need flowers in a hurry? Buy pots of fresh gerbera daisy plants at your local grocery store. Available nearly year-round, they come in gorgeous, vibrant colors, and all you have to do is use your imagination to disguise the pots.
—Sophie Winston
I nearly dropped my mug of coffee as I listened. I’d thought Joel could give Tucker an alibi, but instead he was practically convicting him.
When Hannah bounced into the kitchen moments later, she was wearing a vivid turquoise top and white trousers that belonged to me but made my bottom look like a hot air balloon. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked as she swept by me.
Mind? She could have them. They were darling on her.
She poured a cup of coffee and swung her long hair to the other shoulder, revealing that she wore my earrings as well.
“I’m so glad that I don’t have to dress in pastels anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I like pastels, but I’m not into being demure.”
Daisy pawed at the door. I’d been so excited to have a chance to chat with Joel, I’d forgotten to let her out. I started to open the kitchen door for her and remembered that she wasn’t supposed to run in the backyard. What a bother.
“Humphrey’s not up yet?” asked Hannah.
“Humphrey?”
“He intended to sleep in his hearse out on the street, so I told him he could crash in the den. I knew you wouldn’t mind. I should wake him.”
“Hannah, be careful. Humphrey’s liable to think you’re in love with him.” I took my coffee mug and opened the door for Daisy. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. How do waffles sound for breakfast?”
I thought Joel might drool just thinking about it.
Even though I knew the backyard was off limits, I ducked under the yellow tape to look around. “Be very careful, Daisy, we’re not supposed to be back here.” She wagged her tail like I’d told her a joke and trotted off toward the rear of the yard. I sipped my coffee and gazed at the chaos. Shepherd’s hooks full of bright gerbera daisies still lined the runner and the empty white chairs remained in formation like good little soldiers, but the flowers on Natasha’s heart-shaped wreath had wilted, along with the blossoms on the wedding arch.
Wolf had allowed the ice bar to be broken down and removed, but the little carpet that I’d thrown over the spot where Natasha’s sculpture broke remained. I’d forgotten all about the ill-fated cupid.
After a glance around, I ambled to the potting shed, stepped inside, and tried to imagine what had transpired. Idly, I pulled up the top of the cooler that contained bits of the cupid. The chunks of ice had melted into water. I flipped open the other cooler. Floating on top with tiny melting pieces lay a boutonniere box. The white rose inside was as crisp and fresh as it must have been on Hannah’s wedding day. The cops must have seen it, but it probably hadn’t meant anything to them. It was just another piece of wedding froufrou on ice to keep cool. But what if the person distributing the boutonnieres had gotten into a fight with someone, wound up with an extra one, and had to hide the evidence? I knew who had taken charge of the boutonnieres. I knew who might have wanted to drop Stan’s boutonniere into the cooler to hide it. I knew whose fingerprints would be on the box. Robert.
I slammed the cooler shut and rushed to the house. Daisy, sensing excitement, romped along. I flew through the kitchen to the telephone and called Wolf.
The woman who answered the phone said, “Look honey, somebody has got to tell you that Wolf just isn’t the kind of guy you can pursue this way. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you have to be more subtle.”
Doing my best to control my temper, I said, “Tell him Robert killed Stan. I’m certain of it.”
“Give it up, honey. That’s not the way to win him over.”
I hung up, not knowing if she would tell him or not. When I turned, I realized my houseguests were staring at me.
“What happened? How do you know that?” asked Humphrey, his white hair tousled from sleep.
I told them about the boutonniere box.
Tucker lifted his mug to me like a toast. “Bravo! But that’s hardly evidence.”
“Does the name Franchini mean anything to you?”
They gazed at one another.
I didn’t wait. I dashed to the den for Darby’s phone. It didn’t have much of a charge left. I pushed buttons until I managed to find the number of the last caller. I scurried back to the kitchen and surveyed my options. Hannah, Tucker, Humphrey, and I sounded like southerners. That left Joel and Phoebe.
Explaining that I wanted him to find out what he could about Donata or Tony Franchini, I pushed a button and the phone dialed the number of the last caller.
Like a champ, Joel said, “Hey. I’m looking for Donata. She there?”
He shook his head indicating no.
“I heard she’s with Tony.”
We all heard the shriek that spewed from the phone. A woman’s voice screeched, “She’s back with her ex? When did he show up?”
“Hey, you know how I can get in touch with Tony or Donata? I’ve got a delivery for them that I know they want.”
He motioned for a pen and I handed him a pen and paper.
“Her mom?” He scribbled a number on the pad, along with the name
Mrs. Pietra
. He thanked her and hung up. Seeming to enjoy himself, he promptly dialed the new number.
“Mrs. Pietra? I’m a friend of Donata’s. We were planning to go out tonight and I have to cancel, but I can’t find her and I don’t want to leave her standing out on the street waiting for me.”
A silence followed. Joel grinned. “Yes, I promise I’ll pick her up next time.”
Another silence, but Joel began to scribble again. The rest of us hunched forward, hoping to hear what her mother was saying.
“Thank you. You have a nice day, Mrs. Pietra.”
Joel hung up and tapped the paper. “It seems that Donata went to a wedding over the weekend with Constanzo and Roberto.”
FORTY
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
I hate wedding cakes. My fiancé and I adore malted milk balls, but we can’t just serve those for dessert. Do I have to pay for an expensive cake that I don’t want?
—Malted Milk Lover in Mount Airy
Dear Malted Milk,
Set up a candy bar for dessert. Use glass bowls and vases of different sizes and shapes and fill them with all your favorites. If you provide darling little bags, they can double as favors, too. And if you’d like a hint of cake, set cupcakes on a tiered display next to the malted milk balls.
—Natasha
“Constanzo and Roberto?” Hannah wrapped her arms over her abdomen like she was comforting herself. “You mean they weren’t his relatives?”
Humphrey reached a tentative hand toward her shoulder but withdrew it before he made contact. “Do you think he asked friends to play the part of his family?”
“A charade? It was bad enough to imagine Craig might have killed Stan, but this would mean he deceived me . . . us.” Hannah unwound her arms and drummed her coffee mug just like our mother did when she was thinking. “Isn’t it possible that all this information is wrong? That the gun was stolen and that Joel just talked to the mother of someone named Donata whom we don’t know? Maybe the phone doesn’t belong to Darby. Maybe one of the other guests left it.”
“Excuse me. Doesn’t anyone else see the similarities in the names? Robert—Roberto, Stan—Constanzo?” I felt terrible for Hannah. There weren’t many possible scenarios that would appeal to her. Either she was married to a murderer, or her husband and his buddies had deceived her, or, I shuddered to think it, both.
Hannah snatched up Darby’s cell phone and punched buttons. “Rats. She doesn’t have many numbers stored.”
Humphrey peered over her shoulder. An excuse to get closer? “I think the charge died.”
In disgust, Hannah set the phone on the table.
“We can buy a recharger for it.” Obviously, Phoebe wanted to cheer up Hannah. “Let’s go.”
Humphrey said, “What about breakfast? I get woozy if I don’t eat.”
“I can start waffles while you buy a recharger, and then while we eat we’ll see what else we can figure out from the phone.”
Hannah practically pushed Humphrey out the door. I could hear him insisting he would faint if he didn’t eat. Trying to forget about the mess, I apologized to Daisy for ignoring her and took her for a quick walk.
We crossed the street and passed Natasha and Mars’s house. I wondered if Natasha had erred in buying a place so close to mine. I didn’t suffer from delusions that Mars pined for me, but we were friends and he clearly considered his aunt’s house, now mine, a haven.
We crossed another street, and I focused on the murders and whatever odd game Craig’s relatives, if they
were
his relatives, had been playing. It followed that Stan was Constanzo and Robert was Roberto, but then who was Tony? Stan had Tony’s gun, and according to the woman on the phone, Tony was Darby’s ex-husband. Was he the one who’d walked out on her?
We turned left and started walking back. I chuckled to myself about the problems we might have created for Donata /Darby when her mother asked her about the new boyfriend who’d called.
But my chuckles subsided when I glimpsed Wolf near Mordecai’s house. I hoped Humphrey had told him our theories, but I wasn’t in the mood for another unpleasant confrontation. Praying that Wolf hadn’t seen us, I cut through the alley that passed behind Nina’s and Natasha’s houses.
A hand grabbed my shoulder and I jumped. Wolf had caught up to us.
“Humphrey called me.” Wolf squatted to pet Daisy.
“Do you think Robert killed Stan?”
His nose wrinkled in a cute way, and I couldn’t help thinking how attractive he was. “I don’t think I can build a case based on a boutonniere box, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
I could understand why Wolf didn’t think the boutonniere box was significant, but someone had bothered to hide it in the cooler.
Wolf’s phone buzzed and he stood up. “At least I know it’s not you calling. Excuse me.” He used the earbud and listened. “It’s a message from you.” Speaking into the phone, he said, “What time did that call come in? From what number? Thanks.” He removed the earpiece. “Looks like I owe you an apology.”

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