Overdue for Murder (Pecan Bayou) (20 page)

"She was watching two women. Martha Hoffman and ... you."

"Me? I know we had an argument that the entire mall seemed to have heard, but I didn't consider it all that serious. Did you think she did?"

"I don't know, but each time she would gaze down the table I was hoping it was my eyes she was trying to meet. It was not. She was looking past me at you."

I took a piece of paper out of my purse and wrote down the text. "Have you shared this with the police, Damien?"

He shrugged. "I haven't. You are in trouble, and I don't believe you are guilty. When I first read this, I must admit I thought she was talking about you."

I gulped. "I suppose it could have been me she was writing about, but our altercation ended that day... or at least I thought it did. That's why it has to be Edith."

"Of course." He closed his phone. "And I will go over to the police station directly and report this text."

"Good. I know it will help them and me – and thank you."

"For what?"

"For thinking of telling me first and believing in me."

He took my hand and gently kissed it. "De nada," he said softly.

*****

I ran over to the Gazette to ask Rocky if he knew whether Vanessa knew Edith was the other woman. Maybe Vanessa had said something to him or yelled it out in the office when she was scolding Peter. Rocky was behind his computer in the back when I entered.

"Betsy, this is a surprise. I'm glad you stopped by," he said. "I wanted to let you know I found another columnist to replace Vanessa. We now have an official gardening column that will start with next week's paper."

"That's great, Rocky. How's the new guy doing?"

"Oh, Tim? He's great when he's not texting on his phone. This generation is all about communicating without face time."

"That's what Facebook is for."

"Why do they call it that? That's what I'd like to know," said Rocky. "Do you ever actually see the other person's face? No. You see whatever face they want you to see. Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned 'Let's have coffee and I'll tell you what's going on in my life?'"

"Thing of the past, Rocky – but funny you should mention coffee. I just had a cup with Damien Perez, who showed me a text Vanessa sent before she died." I pulled out the scrap of paper I had written it on and showed it to him.

"Was she that angry at you?"

"I didn't think so. When I read this I thought it might be Edith Martin she was texting about," I said. "Did you ever hear her mention her name when she was in the office?"

Rocky cupped his elbow in his hand and leaned against the other. "I don't think she did. There was an awful lot of yellin' going on in here." He shook his head. "I just don't recall anything being said about a specific name. It was more like she was focused on the act she caught him in, not who he was doing the act with."

"Great," I said. "Damien Perez is about to report the text to the police. What's to say they won't immediately assume she was talking about me?"

"Did you ever stop to think she might have been talking about Martha Hoffman? It's out now that she wrote Vanessa's book."

"Oh my gosh, you're right. It had to have been Martha."

"Which is a theory that works great until you realize Martha is dead, too. Who killed her? Vanessa from the grave?"

I glanced at my watch. "Almost time for Zach to get home. Good luck with your gardening column. Who's writing it, by the way?"

"Ruby Green from The Best Little Hair House. Isn't Ruby Green just the best name for a gardener?"

"Are you going to put a green thumb next to her picture?"

He laughed. "Maybe I will."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"Alright Danny, hand me one more." Zach slowly perched a tiny yellow Lego onto a fire-engine red duplicate. Danny and Maggie had come over for dinner and one more try at breaking a world record. He was going to stack as many Legos in a continuous line as he could on our dining room table. Zach loved these little plastic blocks and probably had well over a thousand of them. Probably one of the most painful things a parent faces in cleaning up toys is stepping on that one piece of hard, bone-crunching Lego that was missed.

Danny sat in a chair, holding the bucket ready to hand off the next Lego. Aunt Maggie and I sat in the next room watching television. Aunt Maggie loved reality TV, and tonight she was wrapped up in the show about the desert island. I watched the endless scenes of people talking to the camera about the other contestants but soon tuned out.

Who was Vanessa texting about? Was this the person who killed her? Could Peter Markham be living with his wife's killer, or had they been in it together? I had worked next to Peter for a couple of years now, and he never seemed like the type. Edith I didn't know all that well, but how could a woman who spent her days writing about love and passion use murder to solve a problem? Maybe she had passion in anger as well as love?

I glanced at the show, where scantily clad castaways were eating what looked like live bugs. It was amazing what people would do for a million dollars. Eating bugs in your underwear in front of a worldwide audience was a little much even for that kind of money.

"Mom!" I heard from the other room. "This is taking a long time. Could we have some soda?" Zach said. "Yeah," Danny chimed in.

"No, you can have some milk. Soda will keep you up all night." I rose to go get two glasses of milk when the phone rang.

"Miss Livingston? This is Xavier Frank. Sorry to call you so late. You told me if I remembered anything else to let you know? Well, I remembered something ... "

*****

I sat outside in the parking lot waiting for a killer. It was dark except for one street lamp about forty yards away. I could be wrong. I could be overreacting. Better yet, I could just forget about this and be home in my bed, asleep, waiting for the police department to come and arrest me for a murder I didn't commit.

A bat flew by the front windshield of my Uncle Jeeter's old truck. I saw the reflection of the glass door trip against the light as it opened and closed. It was time. I stepped out of the truck and leaned against it, folding my arms. I wasn't sure if I was trying to look cool or to protect myself from flying candelabras.

"Betsy? What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Did we ... did I miss something? I don't remember anything about us getting together tonight, but I'm glad to see you. Boy, what a day I had today."

"No, we didn't have anything planned. This is all kind of spur-of-the-moment."

"Okay. Are you feeling alright? You're acting kind of weird."

"I'm feeling fine," I said, "but then, I don't eat a lot of cupcakes, Pattie."

Pattie stopped. Her smile fell flat. "Betsy? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your cupcakes and how the whole town loves them."

"Thank you," she said. "I work very hard."

"They love them so much you could almost say they're addicted to them."

Pattie laughed. "I know what you mean. I have some people who come in every single day for their cupcake fix."

"Including Vanessa Markham. Vanessa who took such good care of her appearance found herself all of a sudden unable to stop eating your delicious cupcakes."

"The prettier they are the harder they fall."

"Vanessa was so upset about it she actually had one of your cupcakes analyzed by a nutritionist down in Houston."

Pattie started fidgeting with the bag she had carried out of the bakery."Really? That's interesting. Do you know what came out of that?"

"Oh, you know ... flour, sugar ... and an addictive food additive," I said.

"What?"

"It's called bliss butter. It's an interesting concoction that's made by mixing butter, sugar and a few extra chemicals that serve to increase the hunger-producing hormone, ghrelin. Combine this with the refined carbohydrates that cupcakes already have, and wham! You have yourself a money-maker. The delicious mixture of the flour, sugar and regular butter makes people feel blissful, but when you add just that little extra kick, your cupcakes are to die for."

"I'm sorry to hear you put it that way." Pattie pulled a long cake knife with a serrated edge out of her bag and lunged for me. I jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blade.

"Wait!" I said. "Before you kill me, I think I deserve to know some answers. How did you end up killing Vanessa in the library? There were people everywhere who would have seen you."

Pattie was breathing hard but edging up on me with the knife. "Don't you get it? People don't look at me. I'm the girl who serves the food. I slipped in when the painters left the door open and then waited. The fumes from the paint made my head hurt, but I hid behind that cardboard clock. Vanessa had it all figured out and threatened to reveal what I was doing if I didn't pay her off. I told Vanessa to meet me there before the meeting and I would give her the money she asked for. She showed up a half hour before the meeting and unbelievably just walked past the sign and no one stopped her. Martha was back in the meeting room setting up chairs, so it was perfect for me. Once she was in the door, I dragged her to the back and hit her with the candlestick. The whole thing only took about two minutes' time. I ran out the back door, closed it and went to my van to change. Easy to kill her – easier than I ever thought it would be. Killing you will be a little more difficult." She laughed. "How am I ever going to pin it on you? We didn't even have an argument in public."

Pattie stepped forward and began to raise the knife. I jockeyed out of the way and put my hand up again. "Did you kill Martha, too?"

"Yes, I killed her in order to make the police think it was you. Pretty clever about the note, huh? I just took it off of your charge slip for Danny's birthday cake. Oh, and don't worry. The cake was straight. Nothing in it."

"What a comfort to know you refuse to drug kids."

Pattie smiled and nodded, but then, as if remembering her purpose, she ran up on me and raised the knife when car lights went on all over the parking lot. I put my hands up and backed away from her.

My dad and Chief Wilson grabbed Pattie by the shoulders and pulled her away from me. She shrieked and kicked as they tried to get control of the hand with the knife in it.

"I trusted you! How could you betray me like this!"

My dad put handcuffs on Pattie. "Need anything else, there, Chief?"

"That ought to do it, Judd," said Arvin Wilson. "Good job, Betsy. We appreciate your help in this matter. We got everything on tape from the wire you're wearing."

I slowly slid down the side of the truck, catching my breath. "I would never have believed it."

"Believe it!" Pattie yelled. "That bitch found out about my secret ingredient and was going to let the whole world know if I didn't cut her in. She never had to work for anything in her life. I get up at dawn and start baking and don't quit until after supper. I'm workin' my ass off and she's going to come in and take my money?"

"Where did you get the idea to create the bliss butter?" I asked.

"I may have only been to junior college, but I know food," said Pattie. "I read up on it and then discovered I could get what I needed off the internet. Like you said, it didn't take a lot, just enough to make people feel happy."

"I can't believe you, Pattie," I said. "I thought you were my friend."

Pattie looked down at the dark parking lot. "I
was
your friend. I mean, I liked you and all, but when the thing happened at the mall and Vanessa got so angry, you just became the natural course of action. Everyone would believe you did it because she insulted your kid. It just kind of fell into my lap, so lose a friend and keep my business."

My father started escorting her to the waiting patrol car. "Don't worry, Pattie," he said, "you'll meet all kinds of new friends in jail. If they let you cook in the prison bakery, the inmates will never have had it so good."

"You think they might?" Pattie asked.

"I'll put in a good word for ya."

*****

"And so this is Betsy Livingston, The Happy Hinter, hoping you learned a little something today. Thank you." The scene on the television dimmed as I clicked the TV off with the remote. I snuggled on the couch next to Leo Fitzpatrick. "Thanks, Leo. I had no idea you had been a TV weatherman for a while. All of your tips about relaxing in front of the camera really helped."

"And letting you film on location and out of the studio. The best hurricane coverage is the guy standing in the rain," he said. "I'm just glad you finally made it to Dallas, Betsy."

"It was touch-and-go there for awhile."

"Yeah, we could be having this conversation through protective glass, I guess."

"It was looking that way," I said. "If I hadn't gotten that call from Xavier Frank, I never would have known. I wouldn't have even suspected her of anything. She was always so nice to me. I'm actually going to miss her."

"Don't you mean you're going to miss her cupcakes? The whole town must be going through withdrawals right now," he said. "An entire town with the munchies, what a story."