Final Fondue (A Five-Ingredient Mystery) (18 page)

Val struggled to dredge up a memory.
Who had mentioned May this weekend?
Payton, when he talked about how he’d reconnected with Jennifer. A ripple of excitement ran through Val. “Payton told me about the double date the four of you went on. That was in May.”

Sarina’s eyes widened. “Really? Of course, the date would stick in Payton’s memory more than mine.”

“I’m surprised it didn’t stick in your memory. From what I heard, the double date didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to.”

“It didn’t turn out the way Noah and Payton expected.” Sarina muttered. “When I said the date didn’t stick in my memory, I meant the calendar date, not the event. I thought it was in April, probably because it wasn’t long after Easter and the weather was cool. It could easily have been May.”

Val paid no attention to the comments on the month and the weather, fixating on Sarina’s first remark. The double date hadn’t turned out as the two men expected, but maybe the women had anticipated the outcome. Was that the day Jennifer got her way, ending up with Payton, the hunky lawyer, instead of Noah, the homely one?

“I think the verse Jennifer received was about that double date,” Val said. “Noah might have sent it because he was annoyed with Jennifer for dropping him in favor of Payton.”

Sarina sipped her wine. “It happened five months ago. Why would he wait until now to show his annoyance?”

“Maybe he didn’t wait, but sent similar messages previously. And Jennifer brushed them off, as she did this one, to avoid a confrontation with her fiancé’s best friend.”

“You’re on the wrong track.” Sarina stood up. “Thanks for the wine. It calmed me down. And forget about convincing Jennifer to talk to the police. I was overreacting to the birds in the tailpipe . . . and the message. Jennifer must have had indigestion like she said.”

Val would bet Sarina had changed her mind about notifying the police because she suspected Noah of sending that message and thought he was harmless—a man of words, not action. Yet the second line of the verse sounded like a threat. Why should Jennifer pay for getting her way and how would she pay?

Val followed Sarina into the hall, carrying the wine bottle and her half-filled glass. Sarina deposited her empty glass on the hall table and looked up at the sound of Noah’s voice coming from the hall above.

“Why would you stay at the Grandsires’ house with people who hate you?”

“Payton’s parents don’t hate me,” Jennifer said. “They just don’t know me. This is a chance for us to spend some time together and get acquainted.”

“You’re naïve if you think they’ll ever accept you.”

And Noah was naïve to think Jennifer would pay any attention to him. Granddad’s words echoed in Val’s mind—
The more parents push, the more their children dig in
. The Grandsires’ opposition to Jennifer might make Payton all the more determined to marry her.

“I was supposed to stay at that house this whole weekend.” Jennifer sounded annoyed. “You’re not going talk me out of going there on the last night. Better late than never.”

She started down the stairs. Noah followed, carrying her massive suitcase.

“I didn’t realize you were going to pack everything,” Sarina said as Jennifer took the last step down into the hall. “That’s why it took you so long.”

“This isn’t everything. I left some things in the closet and drawers.” Jennifer turned to Val. “I’ll come back tomorrow to pick them up.”

“Enjoy your dinner,” Val said as the three of them left.

Val glanced into the sitting room. Her grandfather was still snoring. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She looked at the caller ID. Deputy Roy Chesterfeld. Maybe he had news about the murder investigation.

Val went out to the porch to talk on the phone so she wouldn’t wake up Granddad. She leaned against the porch railing and put her cell phone to her ear. “Hey, Roy. Good to hear from you.”

“Hi, Val. I thought you might be interested in hearing about that rope you found in the maze. It was similar to the one the strangler used, but not an exact match for it.”

No big surprise. Val was pretty sure the rope coiled under the corn stalks wasn’t intended to strangle anyone but rather to create fear, like the birds in the tailpipe. “Any word on when Fawn died?”

“The medical examiner gave a two-hour range.”

He wasn’t going to give her the exact time, but maybe he’d answer a specific question. “Was she alive before the fireworks started, say eight to eight thirty?”

“That’s at the outer edge of the M.E.’s time estimate. Witnesses saw her at the festival around that time.”

One of those witnesses was Sarina, who’d reported seeing Fawn at eight near the bandstand. The chief had also mentioned someone who’d seen Fawn talking to a man as the fireworks were starting around eight thirty.
Was Fawn recognizable in her crab hat and could those witnesses be trusted?
If so, then Fawn had been alive when Jennifer was en route from the house to the festival for the fireworks. “I appreciate the information, Roy.”

“You and your grandfather planning to act out the crime like you did last time?”

It hadn’t crossed her mind, but why not? Reenacting the murder this time wouldn’t take as long. “Are you going to help us again?”

“Count me in, as long as I don’t have to play the victim again.” He laughed.

“You can be the killer this time. Or the sheriff’s deputy who arrests the killer. Can we do it sometime tomorrow?”

“My schedule’s too tight tomorrow. Later in the week would work better.”

By then, the suspects would have left town, and he’d have no chance of arresting the killer. “Let’s hope the case is solved sooner than that. Thanks for calling, Roy.”

Val tucked her phone away. The members of the wedding group would leave Bayport tomorrow, but they’d remain within reach of the local police if evidence against any of them came up. The same was true of Whitney and Chef Henri, who may have already left town, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t return. He knew where to find the woman he blamed for ruining his life. Yet Henri made an unlikely strangler. He would use voodoo dolls, firecrackers, and words as weapons, but did he have the guts to commit an up-close murder? Probably not. A remote way of killing, like sending his victim a box of poisoned truffles, suited his style better.

Her mother’s rental car turned into the driveway. Val helped carry the groceries inside. Her grandfather, still in his easy chair, opened his eyes as they passed the sitting room.

“Perfect timing, Granddad. The smell of red meat woke you up.”

“I can hardly wait to grill that steak.” He eased his chair into an upright position.

Mom held up her hand palm out. “Don’t get up yet. We have to postpone dinner. I went by police headquarters and talked to Earl. Fawn’s mother is going to stop by here soon. If she hasn’t had dinner yet, I think we should invite her. She may not want to eat, but we should at least ask her.”

Granddad nodded. “Poor woman. This is going to be bad enough for her. We don’t want her going hungry. You got enough food?”

“I bought it before I found out she was coming. There’s enough if we stretch it. I have mushrooms and lots of vegetables.”

“Vegetables. Hmph.”

“I could make beef stroganoff, Granddad. You like that, and I have an easy recipe.”

“Don’t cut that beef into pieces until we know she’s staying for dinner and she eats meat. If she’s a vegetarian, my steak is saved.” He stood up. “How about appetizers since we have to wait for dinner?”

They adjourned to the kitchen. As they emptied the grocery bags, Val told them that Jennifer planned to spend the night at Payton’s parents’ house.

“One less mouth to feed in the morning,” Granddad said. “Don’t go giving her a refund on the room like you did on Fawn’s room.”

“It never crossed my mind.” Val fetched the wine bottle and glasses she’d left in the hall.

“I’ll have a glass of the red wine I just bought.” Mom set out grapes and cheese on a plate. “You must have had a good nap, Pop. You look more rested than you did earlier today. I can’t say the same for you, Val. You have dark circles under your eyes. It’ll take more than a nap to get rid of those.”

“I haven’t noticed any dark circles, Mom. Then again, I’ve been too busy with the festival to look in a mirror.” Val popped the cork off the wine. “I wish you’d picked a different time to visit when I didn’t have so much to do.”

“I’m here now, and I’m going to help. I want you to leave right after dinner so you get a good night’s sleep at Monique’s house. Your grandfather and I will handle breakfast for the guests. In the morning you can drive straight to the café, make the food for the booth, and take the rest of the day off. I’ll stay at the booth and help your assistant.”

With that offer, her mother redeemed herself, even for her interference with Tony.

“Thank you, Mom. I can use some downtime.”
And free time for a murder reenactment.
She handed her mother a glass of the red wine. “With the festival winding down, the booths are closing at two. What time do you have to leave for the airport?”

“Five at the latest. I have to allow time to return the rental car.” Mom sipped the wine. “By the way, Tony called to tell me he talked to you. That didn’t turn out the way he hoped. He’s on his way back to New York.”

Granddad took a beer from the refrigerator. “Good riddance to him.”

Mom put her wine glass down and crossed her arms, her lecturing stance. “I hear you’re taking a private investigator course, Pop.”

Granddad whipped his head toward Val. “You spilled the beans.”

“No, Val’s not the one who told me.” Mom glared at her. “Though she should have.”

“It must have been Ned. He never could keep his mouth shut.”

Val sympathized with her grandfather. This wasn’t the first time his buddy had tattled on him to Mom.

“Don’t blame him, Pop. I ran into him at the festival. He naturally assumed you’d told me about this online course.”

“Why should I tell you? If I want to take up a new career, that’s my own business.”

Her mother put a piece of cheese on a cracker. “I figured the course was a scam, so I asked Earl if an online course could possibly prepare someone to be a private investigator. He said that you can’t be a P.I. in Maryland without five years of investigative experience.”

Granddad looked thunderstruck. “They should have told me that before I plunked down good money for this course.”

“Maybe you can get your money back for the rest of the course.”

Val gave her mother a you-must-be-joking look. “Companies that run online courses would go bankrupt if they gave a refund to every student who doesn’t finish a course.”

Granddad flicked his wrist. “I’m no quitter. There’s always away around silly laws. I’ll just operate without a license. Call myself a sleuth instead of a P.I. I won’t be able to charge as much as a licensed investigator, but that’s okay. I’ll undercut the competition and give senior discounts.” He popped a grape in his mouth.

Mom laughed. “Senior discounts go to customers who are seniors. You can’t give your clients senior discounts because
you’re
a senior.”

“I expect my clients will be mostly seniors. They’ll trust me because I’m one of them. Ned will talk me up at the retirement village.”

“Go for it, Pop. You’ll perform a real service if you can find lost bifocals and keys.”

Val caught her mother’s wink and smiled. They both knew Granddad had trouble finding his own glasses and keys. He wasn’t good at finding much of anything . . . except trouble.

“The course isn’t teaching me how to locate small stuff like that. It’s a serious course. We had a unit on locating lost folks, even the ones who don’t want to be found.”

“That reminds me,” Mom said. “Earl told me the Philadelphia police located the man Fawn was divorcing. He’s in custody. I’m sure her mother will be happy to hear her daughter’s murderer is behind bars.”

“The murderer is behind bars?” Granddad stroked his chin. “I wouldn’t take that as gospel truth yet.”

Val picked some grapes off a stem. “Just because he’s in custody doesn’t mean he’s guilty of murder.”

“The two of you egg each other on.” The doorbell rang. Mom set her wine glass on the counter. “I’ll get it. That’s probably Fawn’s mother.”

Her grandfather put down his beer. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

Neither was Val. “Let’s make the best of it. We’ve both been obsessing about who the strangler’s intended victim could have been. But we know very little about the actual victim. That’s like cooking a dish without a key ingredient.” Understanding the character of the victim had helped Val figure out Bayport’s other murders. Maybe it would help this time too. “We can find out more about Fawn if her mother can bear to talk about her.”

“I’ve been to a lot of funerals. Talking about the dead person is part of grieving. We’ll hear about Fawn, but only what her mother wants to remember about her.”

They went to the sitting room to meet Fawn’s mother.

Mercy Schrank was in her late fifties, short and plump with a round face. She had hair the color of orange juice, except for gray roots. She apologized for intruding, thanked them for their condolences, and asked to see where her daughter had spent her final moments.

Granddad took Mrs. Schrank through the kitchen to the backyard and, after a few minutes, returned to the kitchen. “She wanted to grieve alone. I invited her to stay for dinner, told her what we were eating, and she accepted.”

“You know, she drove almost five hours to get here,” Mom said, “and she’s planning on driving back tonight. What do you think about offering her Jennifer’s room?”

Val didn’t like it. “Not without Jennifer’s permission. She left some things in the room and said she’d come by for them tomorrow. I suppose I can call her and ask.”

“Don’t do it yet,” Granddad said. “Jennifer will ask for her money back, and Fawn’s mother may not even want to stay.”

Mom finished her wine. “I’ll go tidy the bathroom upstairs in case she does. We can change the sheets later if we need to.” She left the kitchen.

Val put her grandfather to work making the salad while she cut up the onions and mushrooms for the beef stroganoff. “If Mrs. Schrank doesn’t want to drive home tonight, maybe Monique will put her up. She has spare bedrooms because her children and in-laws aren’t staying there tonight. I’d rather ask
her
for a favor than Jennifer.”

Mom returned to the kitchen with a plastic trash bag. “I emptied the wastebasket in the bathroom and replaced the towels with clean ones.”

Granddad grabbed the trash bag. “I’ll take care of that.” He headed out the back door.

Five minutes later Val glanced out the kitchen window and saw him talking to Fawn’s mother in the backyard. They returned to the kitchen together.

“It’s so peaceful out there,” Mrs. Schrank said. “I’m glad Fawn didn’t die in some alley in a city. The police chief told me that Jennifer Brown, Fawn’s friend from high school, is staying here. Is she around? I’d like to talk to her.”

Granddad shook his head. “She’s gone out for the evening.”

Val’s concern that Mrs. Schrank would find it too hard to talk about her daughter proved unfounded. Over dinner, she talked of nothing else besides her daughter and her husband, Gerald.

“Fawn’s daddy left before she was even born. I married Gerald when she was about ten, and we moved to Franklin. He was good to her, even adopted her and gave her his name. That town was always too small for her. She was a restless girl, wanting to go places.” Fawn’s mother ate a bite of the beef stroganoff. “She had a beautiful voice. Sang solos in the choir when she was fourteen or fifteen. But then she decided to be a pop singer and quit the choir. Gerald did not like that at all, or the people she was hanging out with at school. He said they were leading her down the road to perdition. She didn’t take kindly to his scolding.”

Val suspected that Gerald didn’t give his wife much chance to talk and she was making up for it now. She paused in her monologue only long enough to take a bite and wash it down with water. No wine, beer, or even iced tea for her. Gerald didn’t approve of alcohol or caffeine. Mrs. Schrank had perfect timing, forking food into her mouth only when Val’s mother, the one person at the table who might want to change the subject, was busy chewing.

“Fawn went to Blue Ridge Community College. She finished there and was going to transfer to a university, but then she took up with a rock band. Gerald said they were all taking drugs. Fawn ended up marrying the guitar player, Bo Finchley. Gerald said Fawn would regret it.” Mrs. Schrank paused for a drink of water. “Bo made her sign on to loans he took out. She took out loans, too, so she could finish her degree online. Then Bo went on the lam and left her to pay all his debts. Even then, she wouldn’t come back home. Just wouldn’t admit she was wrong and Gerald was right.”

Val took advantage of a pause in the monologue to divert the meandering stream of words in a direction she wanted it to go. “Were Fawn and Jennifer good friends in school?”

“They were in the drama club together. Fawn got the good parts in the musicals because of her voice. Jennifer designed the sets for all the shows. They were two of a kind, Fawn and Jennifer, both of them itching to leave their small town and make a splash in a bigger pond.”

Val could sympathize. After graduation from college, she’d found the big pond alluring too. “Did you know Jennifer’s parents well?”

“Just to say hello to. Jennifer’s family had more money than we did. They lived in a better part of town. Jennifer had more freedom than Fawn. She got to use the family car on weekends. Gerald always said high school kids were too young for cars. Jennifer used to give Fawn a ride to parties and such. Lucky for her Fawn was there when a young fella on a bicycle shot out in front of the car.”