"Yep. Winifred Sasenfras was able to recreate most of the recipe for Merville. She'd seen her husband make the buns hundreds of times. They were good, and yet there was a certain j
e ne sais quois
missing. They were not exactly the same."
Todd was astonished. "You were after my buns all along!"
"My buns, sonny. And don't you forget it. Enough was stolen from me by you Sparklings."
He glanced at Calendula. "And this is the last of it!"
Todd felt uncomfortable. "But why did you torment me with the kitchen gadgets and implements? If I knew—"
"No! The proof of Merville's betrayal is that original recipe right there, and that's what I wanted! You're a wuss-butt, Todd, although I don't dislike you. I knew you'd call in some help if you got scared enough. And there was no way I was going into that place to look for it. Tried once and was scared silly by something I'd rather not talk about."
"All of this nonsense for a recipe for dinner rolls? Really!" Auntie's glasses slid down her nose.
"Not just any rolls, Auntie," Zanita said. "I remember when we first got here, someone said that a national concern was interested in buying the recipe. That could mean millions, right, Tyber?"
"Right, baby."
"I don't get it," Mark said quietly. "If Calendula was his partner, why get you involved?"
"Ah, well, because he didn't really trust her. You see, legally, Winnie is still married to Sasenfras, and therefore entitled to half the proceeds. She prompted Mark to invite her back here when she heard about what was going on and the fact that the recipe was for sale. It wasn't too hard to sweet-talk Sasenfras, who still has a soft spot for her—why else keep all that god-awful furniture around if not as a shrine? They made a deal; maybe not half the money, but some. Right, Calendula?"
"It's not what you think," she said quietly.
"I think it is," he said. "And I am sorry for this, Winnie, but the truth has to come out."
She nodded, looking down.
"You see, what the killer didn't know was that our victim was not dead yet from the poison when he left him. He managed to write a word in the dust of the table top."
"What did he write, Captain?"
"Dam."
Cody howled with laughter. Gregor belatedly covered his son's ears, grinning too. "Hell, I'd write that, too, if I'd been poisoned."
"I'll keep that in mind," Mills informed him.
He threw her a look.
"At least we thought that was what he trying to write. We even speculated that with his last breath he was cursing his murderer. It fit in perfectly with ghost lore in which the victim curses his killer, then comes back to haunt him. But that wasn't the case."
"How'd ya figure that one, Captain?" Blooey scratched his head.
Tyber continued, "When I decoded the note, I realized it contained the entire recipe. In that recipe was a secret ingredient that only Sasenfras knew about—that was his legacy. You see, the rolls are excellent without this ingredient, but when added, it elevates the formula to supreme culinary status, where Savory Buns could take their place next to Hollandaise sauce, Parker House rolls, and Toll House cookies."
"Now it makes sense!" Zanita was the first to get it.
"Exactly. He was trying to write 'Damson' as a clue, but he never got that far."
"What's Damson?" Mills asked.
"Damson is a type of small, purple plum. You see, the only one who could possibly know that item was in the coded recipe was Sasenfras." To prove his point, Tyber asked Todd, "Do you use finely chopped Damson plums in your savory buns?"
Todd shook his head. "No. No, I don't… but what a fabulous texture to add! It would give them a whole different dimension."
"Where did you get the recipe for the buns, Todd?"
"Why, it's been in my family since…" he paused as he realized exactly how long it had been in his family. "Since Grandfather's time. It was handed down to me."
Tyber let that fact sink into everyone's mind.
"So…" Zanita realized what it all meant before the rest of the guests.
"So… ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to Merville Sparkling—identical twin brother of the late, lamented Sasenfras."
"My god." Todd stared at his grandsire for the first time in utter horror.
"How did you find out they were twins?" Zanita marveled at her husband's acuity.
"Junior Zaccheus told me while you were in the ladies room—after the sixth tequila," he explained of the side of his mouth so only she could hear.
"You can't prove none of this, Evans. Merville committed suicide over guilt at what he had done to me!"
"Oh, I think I can. There were other disturbing signs. The medication for a heart condition, the painting of the cat turned to the wall… You see, the bottle of pills in the room was a giveaway, as well as the turned painting. The medication was made out to Merville; yet you have a heart condition which requires the same meds. Junior Zaccheus mentioned that Sasenfras was always healthy as a horse. True, he could have developed a heart condition, but taken with everything else…"
"Lies!"
"You tricked him into wearing your smoking jacket and clothes, somehow getting him to drink the tea. I think you taunted Sasenfras at the end by placing the coded recipe on the table next to him, unlocking the box he kept it in. It wasn't long before the poison took effect."
"Ridiculous! I'm Sasenfras!"
"Merville liked cats, and so do you; you even made a comment about being glad they were in the room when we had the Ouija board out. Sasenfras must have disliked them. When he realized what you had done, as a last request, I believe he asked you to turn the painting of Megalito around so that it wouldn't be the last thing he had to look at—a cat. Personally, I think he wronged poor Megalito, but there's no accounting for taste. For some reason—perhaps a last shred of brotherly feeling—you complied."
"What motive would I have to kill my own brother?" Sasenfras scoffed. "You'd make a good fiction writer, Evans."
"You were driven by an irresistible compulsion to have everything that belonged to Sasenfras. Your ego never could bear the thought of being a twin. In the end, you had to have his life along with everything else."
"I did no such thing!"
"Yes, you did; and I knew it was you, Merville," Calendula said quietly. "Right from the moment I saw you again."
"Why didn't you just point him out to the authorities, my dear?" Auntie asked.
Calendula remained silent, head down.
"Should I answer, Calendula?" Tyber asked quietly.
She nodded.
"She was protecting someone."
"Who?" Zanita wondered.
"Mark."
"Mark?"
"Me? Why?"
"Because you're her son, Mark. That's why she contacted you to work with her right from the beginning. She wanted to be near you."
Mark was staggered. "Is this true?"
Calendula nodded silently.
"You never told me… all this time… how could you do that?"
"I… I just felt it was better for you this way… I wanted to tell you. So many times."
Mark seemed speechless until he and Todd suddenly looked at each other, horrified. "We're related?" They both wailed the question at the same time.
Calendula shook her head no.
They collapsed in relief.
"At the time, Merville and I… well, I was already pregnant. He assumed it was Sasenfras's, but it wasn't. In those days, I'm afraid I took the term 'free love' rather literally. I knew right away what Merville had done to Sasenfras. I ran away, but I was afraid for both of us. I thought he would kill you as well, Mark. He could never stand Sasenfras having anything. It was a sickness I didn't recognize until too late.
After you were born, I left you with the Kevin's family who lived next door. I thought you would be safer if we were separated. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time, I was young and scared and penniless. I knew Mary Kevins—she was a dear friend of mine and I trusted her and her husband to watch over you. I had read somewhere that people have a tendency to overlook what's right in front of them. It worked. Merville hounded me, but he never knew my son lived right next door. I—I checked on you all the time, Mark… when I could."
Everyone was silent at such a staggering confession. Except for Merville/Sasenfras.
"You're all nuts! I'm Sasenfras, I tell you! Merville killed himself!"
Tyber nodded to the police officers who were waiting behind the door in the kitchen. They came in and escorted a wildly protesting Merville away.
"He might get off on insanity," Tyber murmured. "He really does think he's Sasenfras part of the time. It would explain some of his actions, including why he left those clues. Initially, he willed himself to seal the wing to protect himself. His other persona was even trying to get himself to sell the property to… himself. He was the other buyer, baby."
Zanita nodded sadly. "Imagine assuming your dead brother's identity for thirty-odd years—it would drive anyone nuts. Maybe he had a dual motive in bringing us to that wing; maybe a part of him wanted to be discovered."
"Guilt will do that to you. By the sound of it, he was always unstable. Probably psychotic. He believed he could get away with it and still one day reclaim all that was his, including his other half in Sasenfras. In one sense, this was a genuine ghost investigation; Merville haunted himself."
"Does he actually own the inn now? Since it originally belonged to him and he's still alive?"
"That's a moot point. Todd is the direct heir. I'm sure the courts will declare Merville incompetent."
Mark approached Calendula. "I'll try to understand… mother… but it will take time."
"I know, Mark. And I'll give you that time. Remember that when I left, I had no proof. Who would have believed the rantings of a flower child when she claimed her husband was dead and his wealthy brother had assumed his identity? They would have thought I was either on hallucinogens or mad." She wiped the tears from her face. "We were both robbed."
He put his arms around her, giving her a brief hug.
Calendula spoke to Todd. "Todd, I want you to have my share of the recipe. You probably added your own touches to it. You're such a genius in the kitchen, you deserve it! I can't cook anyway." She smiled wanly.
"I won't hear of it!" Todd joined them. "We'll all be partners! The three of us! Calendula, you can do readings. Mark, it's time you stopped gallivanting around the globe searching for spirits when the best spirit is right here in your own backyard." He waggled his eyebrows at him.
Mark laughed. "All right—it's a deal, but you keep fifty percent, Todd. Otherwise Calendula and I might gang up on you."
Todd grinned. "Done! Say, what ideas do you have for decorating that musty wing…" They walked off into the parlor. These three friends had been through a lot; they would heal together.
"Another fine mystery solved, Captain!"
"Aye, Blooey!" Tyber sat back down and sipped his wine.
Zanita glanced at the doorway and saw a shadowy image of a white dog. He wagged his tail and barked happily at her, then disappeared. She blinked. Asta!
She snapped her fingers. That's what this reminded me of! Giggling, she picked up her drink and clinked it against her husbands glass. "To our favorite ghosts and the people who love them," she toasted.
He raised an eyebrow. "Well said, Mrs. Evans. To our beloved ghosts."
They returned to My Father's Mansion late that evening, choosing to let Todd and his new partners begin their bonding and healing in peace.
However, "peace" was not the operative word on the Evans front.
Mills and Gregor had bickered the entire way back on the late ferry, which turned into a freezing torture. Blooey sang "Sail Away, Joe" until they couldn't stand it anymore. Cody tested his "babe-o-meter" on the few hapless female passengers on board. And, as a finale, Hambone suddenly decided to slip his leash and lose himself on the boat right when it came time to depart.
Cats have an uncanny sense of the best time to aggravate a human. What's more, they always go for it.
Tyber spent a good thirty-five minutes hunting the rascal down. He finally found him cuddled up to a dockside hussy-cat. "That's where the trouble starts… always. C'mere, you scalawag. I don't know how you got out of that leash, but I will discover the answer."
Hambone gave him a smarmy look, which was remarkably satisfied for a fixed cat.
"Hmmm." Tyber thought a minute, then shook his head. "Nah."
The drive back to Stockboro seemed especially long. Probably because they now were driving in a caravan of three cars—theirs, Mills's, and Gregor's. They split off just before town, with Gregor following Mills to make sure she got home safe.
When Tyber and Zanita finally went through the front doors, it was blessedly silent. "Ahhhhh." Zanita sagged against the portico. "I can't tell you how happy I am to be home."