The Diva Says Cheesecake!

I must be the worst mom in the world. After work, I pick up the kids, all at different schools, and by the time we get home it’s seven. Who has time to cook? I know about the kits you can order, but (feeling a little embarrassed here) I really want dinner ready when I come home. Is there a way to afford that?

Exhausted and Starving in Hungry Horse, Montana

Dear Exhausted and Starving,

There are chefs and cooks who deliver to local homes daily. If you cannot find one in your area, get together with two or three other families and find a cook who can make meals for all of you.

Sophie

I was relieved by that revelation, too. “Did you mention that to Alex?” I asked.

“It didn’t even come up,” said Bernie. “The cops wanted to know about my relationship with Tate. They even asked if I was secretly seeing Bobbie Sue! Over and over again.”

Nina eyed Bernie. “Is there any reason they would think you were having an affair with Bobbie Sue?”

Bernie burst out laughing. “No. I hardly know the woman. Do you suppose that real killers change their stories and that’s why they ask the same questions repeatedly? Maybe they can’t keep them straight? In any case, I was telling the truth, so it wasn’t difficult to be accurate. In fact, I think my consistency may have aggravated some of the police. It wasn’t what they wanted to hear.”

Francie tsked. “I hate that. It probably means she’s having an affair with someone else.”

“It sounds like there aren’t many gaps when you would have had the opportunity to kill someone,” I observed.

Bernie shrugged. “There’s the time I was at the play, then the thirty minutes or so while the race was on, and then walking home after work.”

That was his weak spot, I thought. Time-wise he could easily have murdered Tate after the restaurant closed.

“Where were you, Mars?” asked Nina.

“In case that’s some kind of snide way of asking whether I am the one having an affair with Bobbie Sue, allow me to put any such fears to rest. I like her cheesecake but that’s about as far as my relationship with her goes. I happen to have an airtight alibi. I watched the fireworks from a party at a snazzy house that overlooks the river.”

“What time did you get home?” I asked.

“About half an hour before Bernie.”

I didn’t like that. Not at all. The next thing I knew, the police would say Mars helped Bernie.

Even though he’d caught a nap earlier, Bernie looked beat. I thought we had better wind things up. “Okay, then. Our job is to get out there and find people who saw Bernie last night. If we can do that, then the only window of opportunity would be after one in the morning.”

Humphrey piped up. “I’ll see if I can get anything more from the medical examiner’s office. That might help as well.”

Before Mars and Bernie left, I showed them my copy of the letter from Worried in Old Town. “If we could figure out who sent it, we might have a lead on what was going on at Blackwell’s Tavern.”

The two of them nodded but neither seemed hopeful.

* * *

On Saturday morning, I was up early. Daisy was pleased to go outside in the cool morning air, but Mochie yawned and waited patiently beside his food bowl.

Although I felt quite certain that friends and neighbors had probably brought Bobbie Sue loads of casseroles by now, I happened to know that the most overlooked meal for the bereaved was breakfast. And I suspected the last thing Bobbie Sue wanted to do right now was cook breakfast for heaven knew how many people.

I put on the kettle to make coffee and fed Mochie and Daisy. Then I prepared a cupcake pan with cupcake papers. I stirred together flour, sugar, eggs, cinnamon, and melted butter and poured in plump, sweet blueberries. Using a large cooking spoon, I ladled the batter into the muffin cups. When they were baking, I grabbed a fresh bowl and whisked eggs. Eying the refrigerator, I found spinach and sweet red peppers to chop. I considered adding mushrooms, but kids weren’t always fond of them, so I left them out. When the blueberry muffins came out of the oven, I slid in the savory egg muffins. Then I dipped each of the warm blueberry muffins into melted butter and a small bowl of sugar. The sun shone in through the window and gleamed on the sparkling sugar on top of the muffins. I set them aside to cool and poured myself a cup of French press coffee.

As tempted as I was to eat a muffin, they were needed at Bobbie Sue’s house. When the blueberry muffins had cooled, I packed them in a disposable aluminum pan. It wasn’t as pretty as a dish, but Bobbie Sue would have enough problems remembering which dish belonged to which person. I tied a dark blue ribbon around each pan to dress them up a little bit without being festive.

Dressed in a white sheath covered with blue and purple flowers, and simple white sandals, I locked the house and walked over to Bobbie’s Sue’s place. I knocked on the door gently in case the kids were still asleep.

Bobbie Sue’s ex-husband, Pierce, answered the door. I tried to hide my surprise and held out the muffins. “I brought breakfast!”

Pierce wiped his face with one hand like he wasn’t fully functioning yet. “Great.” His voice was husky, as though he hadn’t spoken yet this morning. He motioned me in with a tired wave of his hand.

I headed straight to the kitchen.

Jo trailed into the kitchen from the stairs. She wore a pink and white gingham sundress with ruffles at the shoulders. “Mom says she’ll be downstairs as soon as she’s presentable, which could take a while because she didn’t get any sleep last night. And she said to tell Uncle Pierce that he is not allowed to make coffee because he nearly burned the house down yesterday.”

Pierce blushed. “That is a wild exaggeration.” He turned to me. “Someone figured it out yesterday afternoon, but I don’t know who.”

I opened the two muffin packages. “I’d be happy to make the coffee for you.”

“Are those for us?” asked Jo.

“They are. Are you hungry?”

Her hand darted to the sugary blueberry muffins. “Thank you.” She peeled back the paper and took a bite.

“What do you drink for breakfast?” I asked.

“Could I have some orange juice?”

“Absolutely.” I hoped Bobbie Sue still had some. I didn’t have to look far. I could see it through the glass door of the refrigerator. I took it out and poured her a glass.

I turned my attention to the monster coffee machine. “Let’s see. I think the left side makes coffee.” I picked up the bag of coffee beans just as someone rapped the door knocker.

Jo paid no attention. She was busy picking blueberries out of her muffin and eating them one at a time. Pierce left the kitchen. I heard the front door open, and then a man’s voice, not Pierce’s. “You’re here early, or . . . ?”

Pierce didn’t take the bait. “Come on in. Some lady brought food.”

Coach followed him into the kitchen just as we heard Spence upstairs, yelling, “Mom! I can’t find my backpack. It’s got all my stuff in it.”

Pierce and Coach started for the back stairs in the kitchen. Pierce said calmly to Coach, “I can handle this, thanks.”

Coach stopped in his tracks and watched Pierce disappear upstairs.

I turned my focus back to the monster coffee machine. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to fill the air.

“Hey!” said Coach. “That smells like success to me. If there’s one thing Bobbie Sue will need, it’s her coffee.”

“Sounds like you know her pretty well,” I said.

“We go way back. Before Jo was born. We were neighbors in an apartment complex. I used to help the kids with impromptu soccer games.”

A landline telephone rang. Coach picked it up and took a message for Bobbie Sue.

“Coffee?” I asked him.

“That would be great.”

I found a small serving tray with pewter handles shaped like branches. A matching stoneware creamer and a sugar bowl with a pewter lid were also in the cabinet. The lid of the sugar bowl was curiously shaped like a branch with berries. There was already sugar in it. I filled the creamer with the half and half I found in the fridge and placed the entire set on the serving counter. A quick peek in a drawer yielded napkins, both paper and cloth. I nabbed one white cloth napkin and a bundle of paper napkins. I unfolded the cloth napkin so it was halved and positioned it next to the cream and sugar, then loaded it with a row of spoons. Sleek white mugs with tapered bases stood lined up in a perfect row in the cupboard. I arranged them beside the spoons on a pewter tray and set the paper napkins with a gray branch theme next to them.

A stack of casseroles had caught my eye in the refrigerator. I took a quick peek in case any of them were breakfast casseroles, but they looked to be chicken, mac and cheese, something with penne that I couldn’t identify, and something topped with mashed potatoes.

No dishes cluttered the sink waiting to be washed. I didn’t see anything else I could do to be helpful.

Bobbie Sue and Pierce came down the stairs. She would always be beautiful, but her makeup didn’t disguise her exhaustion. She looked haggard.

“Sophie! You’re just wonderful to have come by.” She eyed the coffee and poured herself some. “Pierce? Don’t tell me you mastered the coffee monster?”

“Happily, I didn’t even have to touch the thing. Sophie did it.” He pointed at me.

“I guess I really should learn,” muttered Bobbie Sue. She stroked her daughter’s hair.

The door knocker sounded again just as Bobbie Sue was swilling coffee. “Would you get that for me, Pierce? I have got to get some caffeine in my system before I deal with anyone.”

I refilled her cup and handed it to her. “Do you have a carafe I should fill?”

She stared at the gleaming monster. “No. I’ll make it Coach’s job to fill the mugs. If he insists on being here, he might as well be useful. It will keep him out of my hair.”

I rounded the counter. “I suspect a lot of people will be coming through today. If you need a hand with anything, just give me a call.” I knew she wouldn’t but felt I should make the offer. One never knew.

Spencer ambled down the stairs in torn jeans. From the locations of the tears, I surmised that they were the expensive torn kind, not like mine where the fabric grew thin from wear. Besides, he was at the age where he was shooting up. I seriously doubted that jeans fit him long enough to wear thin. He had Pierce’s height and build and while a bit more growing would probably happen, he already looked more like a young man than a gangly teen.

Three people rushed in from the foyer. The two women had their arms outstretched and aimed at Bobbie Sue. I took that as my cue to make an exit and slipped out the front door.

It was still early in the morning, a lovely time to walk. I wished I had brought Daisy along. When I approached my block, things weren’t quite so serene.

Natasha’s half sister, Charlene, stormed out of their house, followed by Charlene’s mother, Griselda. I could hear her mom saying, “Honey, we’ll work this out.”

Charlene resembled Natasha quite a bit. She wasn’t as thin nor as tall, but she had the same beautiful black hair and facial structure.

They stopped almost in front of me. I couldn’t help hearing their conversation.

“How am I supposed to cook with no food?”

“A trip to the store will solve that. You’ll be back up and cooking—”

“Where? Where am I supposed to cook? Do you think I can just conjure up a kitchen? What am I going to do?”

“You just calm down now. There’s a solution to every problem.”

I felt obligated to stop. I couldn’t exactly walk by them as though I hadn’t seen them. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Charlene puffed up her cheeks and blew air out of her mouth. “Not unless you know of a commercial kitchen for rent.”

“What happened?”

Her mother, Griselda, said, “Our refrigerator went on the fritz during the night. Almost everything is spoiled. And on top of that, someone left a pot holder in one of the ovens and it caught fire!”

I could just imagine what Natasha had to say about that.

Charlene spoke in a dead tone. “I have no food, no place to cook, and two dozen families expecting meals today.”