Diva 04 _ Diva Cooks a Goose, The (22 page)

When I woke up a few hours later, the girls were asleep, looking as angelic as the kittens that nestled by their feet. I switched off the TV and the Christmas lights and dragged upstairs to my bed. Daisy and Mochie joined me, ready to settle down.

In the morning, the girls were still asleep when I tiptoed downstairs to make coffee. While it brewed, I threw on a winter coat and took Daisy outside at the exact time that Natasha marched along the sidewalk.

Snowplows had worked their magic during the night, but I noted that I needed to shovel the snow from the sidewalk in front of my house.

She thrust a foil-covered dish in my hands. “This is for Vegas. The girls will need a decent breakfast.”

I almost laughed at her feeble attempt at a slight.

“I baked extra, in case your family is still around. Make no mistake, however, that I’m furious with you for reporting me to the police. I thought we were friends.”

We were, in a weird way. “I did no such thing.”

“Please, Sophie. I tell you about the music box and less than an hour later a cop shows up to grill me? I’m not stupid.”

That last part was debatable. “I did not call the police. In fact, if you paid any attention to me, you’d know that I loathe Kenner and wouldn’t call him except under the most dire circumstances. I did, however, call George and Laci, because it puts Shawna’s case in a new light.”

“Honestly, I can’t imagine who would have thought she was smart enough to create a poison gas in the first place. Of course, that just makes me appear to be the guilty one since I have skills and could have pulled it off.” She scowled at me. “How do you get me mixed up in these things?”

Me?
“I had nothing to do with it. If you hadn’t regifted the music box, you wouldn’t be in this pickle.”

“I’d be dead.” She placed three fingertips on her forehead like a drama queen. “Thank goodness I regifted it. It could have been me who inhaled the poison instead of Bonnie.” She removed her hand from her face and cast her gaze toward my house. “I was saved for a reason.”

Give me a break
. “Because everyone wants to be you?”

“Face it, Sophie. They do. Bonnie and Ginger would love to be domestic divas like me. But I was saved because of Vegas. Mars and I have no choice, we have to take her in when her dad returns to the military.”

My knees nearly buckled. No one I knew was less nurturing or maternal than Natasha. “She’s going to live with you?”

“Can you believe it? The child has nowhere else to go, and you know Mars, he’s a sucker for anyone in need. Oh, Sophie! What have we done? I know nothing about children.”

I pitied Vegas. Life with a perfectionist like Natasha wouldn’t be easy. All I could do was try to reassure her. “You’re doing a generous and wonderful thing. Besides, Vegas isn’t a baby ...” I swallowed the rest of my thought—
she’s almost a teenager
. Babies were probably easier than teens!

“Send her home after breakfast, okay? Does this mean I need to schedule play dates?”

It was a rhetorical question, muttered as she walked away. I watched her, proud she was going to care for Vegas, but worried, too, since Natasha never thought about anyone but herself.

I carried the breakfast into my kitchen, where Vegas was pouring herself a mug of coffee. Jen looked on, and I had a bad feeling she was experiencing extreme peer pressure to be mature. “Would you prefer tea or hot chocolate?” I asked.

“I adore coffee,” said Vegas.

To help Jen save face, I zapped a little milk in the microwave. “I’m having café au lait. So much more decadent than plain old coffee.” Before they could object, I diluted their coffees with generous quantities of hot milk and suggested they add sugar.

Hannah stumbled in wearing a bathrobe. Jen and Vegas tittered and whispered to each other. When Hannah sat at the table nursing a mug of coffee, Jen cried, “Oh, Zack!” Vegas and Jen immediately smooched the backs of their hands as though they were kissing boys.

Hannah smiled coyly. “I thought I heard some mice scurrying around last night when I came in.”

The girls burst into giggles.

“Did you invite him to our New Year’s Eve dinner tomorrow night?” I asked.

“Of course. I have such a great time with him.”

That brought on a fresh bout of unmerciful teasing by the girls while we ate Natasha’s rich ham and cheese brioches. Light and buttery dough encasing salty meat and melted cheese—heavenly! Even if Natasha wasn’t the best mother type in the world, at least Vegas would eat well.

After breakfast, Vegas walked home, and Jen, Hannah, and I drove to George’s house so we could return Jen to her parents. When we arrived, except for the fact that the sun shone, the scene was so reminiscent of Christmas Eve that Hannah and I simultaneously chanted, “Déjà vu!”

Neighbors mingled on their lawns, and spilled into the road. I pulled into a spot behind a parked police car. Jen jumped out and ran to Laci, George, Phil, and my dad, who stood in George’s driveway with Tom Thorpe. They all held steaming mugs.

Hannah and I joined them. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Not another theft?”

“It’s Kenner,” said George. “We think he’s here to talk to Ginger about trying to poison Natasha.”

“Great news for us.” Phil lifted his mug like he was toasting Ginger. “They’re more likely to let Shawna out of jail if they suspect Ginger.”

“I feel terrible.” Tom held his warm mug in both hands. “I was the one who suggested they work together on the Christmas decorations. Who would have thought someone would commit murder over something like that? And it was our Bonnie who died as a result. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Where’s Mom?” asked Hannah.

Laci’s mouth twisted in disapproval. “Babysitting my mother. We don’t want her out here. There’s no telling what she might say to Kenner.”

“Why is everyone standing around outside?” I asked. “It’s not like you can hear what’s going on between Ginger and Kenner.”

George snorted. “Are you kidding? The meanest woman in the neighborhood accused of murder? This is high drama for our street.”

Their patience paid off. The door to Ginger’s house flew open, Kenner marched out, pale as the snow dusting the trees, and Ginger’s husband Forrest ran after him shouting, “It’s a lie. I’m telling you—my wife is lying.”

TWENTY-FOU R

A titter spread through the little crowd.

Kenner stopped in front of Tom Thorpe. “I need to speak to your son—the one they call Dasher.”

“Has Ginger made allegations against him again? She has a vendetta against my boy, especially now that he’s going to be the father of her grandchild. She’d like nothing more than to saddle some kind of blame on him.”

Kenner appeared unmoved. “I need to speak with him and Emma.”

Tom shook his head. “They left.”

“Left?” sputtered Kenner. “For where?”

“They sell their artwork and crafts at fairs. I think they were headed south—to Florida.”

“You see?” Forrest Chadwick preened. “Maybe now you’ll believe me. I told you they weren’t here.”

“I wouldn’t be so pleased if I were you. An abrupt departure can be a sign of guilt,” sneered Kenner.

Forrest’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “My daughter is not a killer.”

“But your wife is?” asked Kenner.

The spunk left Forrest’s voice. “I didn’t say that, and you know it.”

“Emma couldn’t kill anybody,” protested Jen. “She’s too nice. She always comes outside to protect us when the school bully walks by on his way home. And when her dad bakes cookies and cupcakes, she shares them with the neighborhood kids.”

The hint of a smile grazed Kenner’s lips. “Kid, there’s no such thing as someone too nice to murder.”

Forrest’s son, Edward, lingered near the side of the house, looking gawky and uncomfortable. Moving slowly, so Kenner might not notice me, I strolled over to him and asked softly, “How are you holding up?”

“Things have been better. I think I just sent my mom to jail.”

Poor kid!
“What happened?”

He plowed the snow on the ground with the toe of his shoe. “You remember Christmas Eve? I went to the pageant with my parents so Mom wouldn’t make a big fuss, but when we got there, I doubled back and ran home because my girlfriend was coming over.”

I tried to suppress a grin. It was hard to imagine this gangly young fellow being romantic.

“We were upstairs in my room when we heard someone enter the house.”

“So you saw the Christmas-gift thief?”

“Not exactly. See, at first Emma didn’t think she would make it home for Christmas, so a couple weeks ago she sent a big box of gifts to Mr. Thorpe. I guess she was afraid Mom would throw them all out if she sent them to us. So Mr. Thorpe brought over our presents. Talk about a scene. Dad opened his right away. Emma had sewn him an apron and hand embroidered it, which infuriated Mom because she can’t stand that he’s a better baker than she is. Then Mom unwrapped hers early because it didn’t match her decor.”

“Her decor? I don’t understand.”

He took a deep breath. “It’s so stupid.” His words dripped with teen disdain. “Every year, Mom announces a gift wrap color scheme that matches the tree decorations. This year all the packages had to be red and gold. Emma wrapped her gift to Mom in red and green, so Mom refused to put it under the tree and opened it early. Anyway, when I peered over the railing on Christmas Eve, Mom had come back from the pageant to get the gift Emma sent her—a music box.”

My knees nearly buckled. “Music box?”

Edward nodded. “An old and fancy one.”

I could see why he felt guilty for telling Kenner. “Did you see your mom putting anything into the music box?”

He seemed relieved for a second. “No. She was wrapping it. She took it with her. If you stand in the doorway to Emma’s room, you can see over the railing into the foyer. I was lurking there so I could intercept her in case she came upstairs. When she left, I ran back to my room. “

“And then the Christmas thieves came?”

“After she left, we heard somebody downstairs. I thought Mom came back because she figured out I wasn’t at the pageant. My girlfriend and I hid under my bed. But nobody came upstairs to look for me, so I think it must have been the gift thieves.” He averted his gaze and held his head down as though in shame. “My girlfriend should have left right after we heard the thieves leave. But ... we, uh, kind of got caught up in saying good-bye, and before I knew it, my folks came home. Then things got worse when Mom called the cops.”

“So you were necking with your girlfriend?”

A flush as bright as Rudolph’s nose flooded his face.

“When the cops went to your house that night, you ran home ahead of them ...” I left my question open-ended.

“Yeaaaah! My girlfriend was still hiding in my bedroom, and I had to get her out the back door before the cops and my mom found her! Can you imagine the kind of scene my mom would make? She threw Emma out of the house because of the ring in her nose. I didn’t want her to do that to me. Where would I go?”

Edward had been living under more stress than any teen deserved. I felt guilty for prying but told myself it might be cathartic for him to talk about his feelings. “Your dad said your mom was lying.”

He looked at me incredulously. “We’re all lying. Don’t you get it? Every single one of us is lying about something. I don’t know what the truth is anymore. Mom told the cop that Emma and Dasher were trying to kill her, but as awful as Mom’s been to them, Emma would never murder anybody. She won’t even use a fly swatter—she catches wasps and takes them outside. Dad told the cop that Emma and Dasher left yesterday, but they didn’t. When the cops got here, Dad snuck out the back way and went over to the Thorpes to tell them to leave.” He wiped his eyes. “I hope Emma gets away, and they figure out who wanted to kill Mom before they catch up to Emma.”

I reached out to hug him, and to my surprise, he didn’t pull away. It seemed to me that his dad, Forrest, might have wanted to kill his mom. I hoped that wasn’t the case. Edward needed a stable parent.

After a short visit with my family, I took off for home. Zack was supposed to pick up Hannah at George’s house, so I had the luxury of a day to myself. A few hours to straighten up and prepare some dishes in advance for a late New Year’s Eve dinner the next night when they would all stay with me so they wouldn’t have to drive home after Old Town’s First Night celebration.