The Diva Goes Overboard

I would love to use boards to entertain. Do they have to be wood?

Marble and stone boards are very popular. It can be fun to mix them up with wood boards to give interest to your tablescape.

Natasha

Nina and I looked at one another.

“Where did that come from?” she asked.

We were gazing around when we heard the next scream. Nina pulled open the door to the gallery and we stepped inside.

Stella held her hands over her mouth and nose. The floor was littered with slices of cheese, salami, ham, colorful fruits, olives, and crackers. The mess almost looked like some kind of artsy display, except that Joan Jankowski lay on the floor in the middle of it. Her shiny chestnut hair covered part of her face, and her arms were splayed as if she had held them out in an effort to stop herself from falling. But the worst part was the trickle of blood that was oozing down her cheek.

I kneeled beside her. “Joan?” I felt for a pulse. Her heart was still beating. That was a relief. “Nina, call nine-one-one for an ambulance.”

“Joan,” I said in a loud voice near her ear. “An ambulance will be on the way soon. Hang in there.” I was afraid to move her in case she had sustained a neck injury. I certainly didn’t want to make anything worse for her.

Nina removed the charcuterie board from Stella’s feet and placed it on a table. She wrapped an arm around Stella.

“What happened?” I asked.

Stella pointed a shaking finger toward the table that had been set up for a party. A long cherry charcuterie board laden with goodies sat atop a white linen tablecloth. Two boards lay on the floor. Food had slid off one of them in a long mound in front of her.

“I . . . I was setting up the boards Joan asked me to bring. They’re having a lunchtime gallery event. It . . . it’s something new they’re trying to bring people in.” Stella babbled mindlessly. “My van is parked out back. I was carrying in the third charcuterie board when I heard a thump. That’s when I saw Joan on the floor.”

“Did you see anyone else in here?” I asked.

The pitch of her voice grew higher as sirens sounded in the distance. “No. No, not at all! Only Joan and Tripp.”

I looked around, but didn’t see anyone else. “Tripp?”

Stella nodded. She gazed around the gallery. “Tripp Fogarty. He was here when I arrived. I heard Joan remind him to pick up the flowers. Maybe he left?”

“Why is that charcuterie board on the floor?” I pointed toward the one that had fallen.

“I don’t know. I placed it on the table right next to the first one.”

The door swung open and EMTs entered the store, followed by Officer Wong.

From time to time, I wanted to call her Rosa, which I thought such a pretty name, but she had gotten used to being Wong, and I tried to respect that.

I stood up and backed away from Joan to give the EMTs room. They stabilized her neck with a brace and lifted her onto a gurney.

For Wong’s benefit, Stella repeated everything she had just told us.

“What are you two doing here?” Wong asked Nina and me.

“We didn’t know about the lunchtime event. Sophie and I were in the neighborhood, and we thought we’d stop by to see Joan.”

Wong’s eyes narrowed and she gazed from Nina to me with suspicion. “By any chance is your presence here related to Orson’s death?”

I hesitated to lie, but I couldn’t exactly blurt out that we’d heard Stella’s husband was having an affair with Joan. And now that I thought about it, if that was true, why would Joan hire Stella to provide charcuterie boards for an event?

“Don’t be silly,” snapped Nina.

We watched as they loaded Joan into the ambulance.

Tripp Fogarty walked up holding a huge bouquet of flowers in a vase. “What’s going on? Good heavens! Is that Joan?”

I was glad to see him because someone would have to man the store or lock it up.

Wong looked him in the eyes. “Where have you been?”

He held out the flowers. “Clearly, I’ve been at the florist. What happened? Is Joan all right?”

“Stella, I’d like to speak with you alone, please.” Wong entered the store and held the door for Stella.

That left Nina and me to explain to Tripp. “We don’t really know what happened. Joan was on the floor, along with a charcuterie board. She appears to have a head wound.”

The ambulance slowly pulled into traffic and drove away with the siren bleating.

“Noooo!” Tripp dragged the word out breathlessly. “Do you think Stella found out about Joan and Jordan and bonked her?”

“Then it’s true?” Nina shot me a look.

Tripp cocked his head. “Are you kidding? Jordan this, and Jordan that. Joan talked about him all the time. I’m surprised more people didn’t know. I realize that Jordan and Stella are separated but—man, these flowers are heavy.”

I opened the door for him.

He hurried inside and placed them on the checkout desk. “What a mess! There’s food everywhere.” Tripp checked his watch. “People will be arriving any minute.” He stared at the table and the only tray with dismay. “This will never do! Ugh! There are three hundred sixty-five days in a year, why did they have to choose this day to squabble over Jordan? Who, if you ask me, isn’t such a spectacular catch anyway.”

“I’ll see if there are any more trays in the van,” I offered.

“Don’t bother. We only ordered three. Unless she made an extra one, I think we’re looking at all of them. Would you two mind helping me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Where’s the broom?”

Tripp disappeared in the back and returned with a broom, a dustpan, and a mop. “Nina, would you call The Laughing Hound and tell them we need ten pizzas? I don’t care what they have on them. You choose.”

Stella had just returned with Wong. “No! I can have replacement boards here in half an hour. It would take any pizza shop in town that long to get pizzas here. Not to mention how much more chic and trendy the boards are. They’re far better suited to an elegant store like this. Do you really want people walking around with slices of greasy pizza?”

Tripp gazed at her. “Half an hour? Are you sure?”

Stella picked up a board she had brought in. “Absolutely.” But she didn’t sound confident.

“Maybe Nina and I could give you a hand?” Making a charcuterie board beat sweeping or mopping any day. I hustled over to the board that had landed on the floor and picked it up.

Stella paused. “Maybe just Nina?”

Nina snorted. “Oh, Stella! You need Sophie. Trust me on this.”

Stella took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you had going on with my father, Sophie.”

I started to protest, but Stella held up a hand. “Please! I do not want to know! I’m also devastated to realize that you were ordering food boards from me to make my father happy. I stupidly thought we were friends and you liked what I do with charcuterie boards. Make no mistake, I am in dire need of assistance right now, or else I would turn you down in a hot minute.” She glared at me. “Just so we all understand that.”

I felt terrible as I followed Stella to her van. Part of me desperately wanted to explain to her what her father had feared. But much as I liked her, Stella was a suspect and I had to keep that in mind. I would tell her one day. Just not today.

Nina and I hopped into Stella’s van. Her house was less than five minutes away by car and only a couple of blocks from my house. She pulled into the alley and backed the van into a brick driveway. Unlike other homes, hers didn’t have a fenced garden in the back.

She quickly unlocked the back door and tossed her keys on a tiny table that appeared to serve as a catch-all. The kitchen was painfully cramped to accommodate a long, narrow island.

Through a corridor that led to a family room, I could see packing boxes. “You’re already moving?”

Stella hastened to wash her hands. “This is a rental. The sooner I get out and move into Dad’s house, the more money I’ll have for other things. I can hardly believe that I won’t have to pay rent anymore. It’s such a blessing!”

While Nina and I washed up, Stella placed two long trays on the island and loaded packages of meats, cheeses, and assorted delicacies between them.

Stella checked her watch. “We have fifteen minutes. You two take that board.” She sliced a hard cheese in triangles and handed us a stack. “Kids have so much gear,” said Stella. “It’s a huge project to move their stuff. I’m trying so hard to be organized, but moving is a headache.”

I rolled slices of ham and set them on the board in a pretty spray while Nina arranged the cheese. We worked quickly. The boards wouldn’t be as lovely as they would have been if we had more time, but we had to deal with the time constraint. I filled in a gap with a bowl of olives that Stella handed me and plopped red and green grapes on the board as fillers.

Nina stacked round crackers in a long tight row. “I love doing this. It’s fun! Sort of like a puzzle. The next time my in-laws come for a visit, I might just do this for a dinner.”

“I do that all the time. You can imagine how many little bits and pieces I have left over. The kids think it’s fun to pick up food with their fingers. Some days I worry they’ll forget how to use forks and knives!”

Stella covered her board with plastic wrap and handed me the box. I did the same, hoping the items wouldn’t move. Nina held the door for Stella and me as we carried the boards out to the van.

Nina locked the door and handed the keys to Stella, who said, “Wow. That went very well. Now let’s hope traffic isn’t stalled somewhere.”

Happily, we were at the back door of the art gallery with four minutes to spare. I carried in one board, Nina carried the other one, and Stella helped position them.

People who had come to see the art on display wasted no time at all helping themselves. During our absence, Tripp had lined up glasses of white wine and no one would ever have imagined that food had been splayed all over the floor less than an hour before.

“I honestly didn’t think you could do it. This is fantastic, Stella. You’re a magician.” Tripp pecked her on the cheek.

Considering how little time we’d had to put them together, I thought the boards looked beautiful. Besides, as people removed items, the boards began to look a little less gorgeous, so our ultra-fast creations no longer mattered. Cheese was eaten, salami was placed on crackers, olives and grapes disappeared.

Stella heaved a great sigh. “I owe the two of you big time. Something like this could ruin my reputation and kill my business very fast. Thanks for pitching in.”

“We were glad to help.”

“Sophie, could I have a word with you, please?” asked Stella.

“Sure.” I followed her out to her van.

Stella looked me in the eyes. “I have to know. Were you seeing my father?”

“No.” I said it firmly. I considered telling her why I thought he had set up his will the way he did. But I quickly reminded myself that she could have been the one who killed him. The hurt in her eyes pained me to the core.

“I just don’t understand. I thought he loved me. He was such a doting dad.”

“Stella, he did love you. More than anything. I don’t quite understand it myself yet, but when I figure it out, I promise I’ll let you know.”

“We will never know. I will have to live with this the rest of my life. I don’t believe you, Sophie. I think you know exactly why he left you the store, but you can’t come out and admit to your relationship with my father because you’re trying to protect Wanda. Well! You can forget the butter boards I agreed to prepare for your meeting.”

“Stella.” I tried very hard not to sound snippy. “We have a contract.”

“Contract? You can tear it up, Sophie. I want nothing to do with you.” She hurried to her van.

“Good luck with the move,” I called out to her.

She drove away in a huff, and I returned to the gallery. I propelled Nina through the store and out to the sidewalk. “Whew! It was getting crowded in there.”

“What do you think happened?” Nina asked as we headed home under the sweltering sun.

“Good question. Stella seemed to be in shock when we arrived. I think I buy the idea that someone else was there.”

“I don’t know,” said Nina slowly. “Stella could have thrown one of the boards at Joan, then rushed out to the van and carried the other one inside to make it look like she hadn’t done it.”

“But she recovered fast. If I had whacked someone with a charcuterie board, and she wound up severely injured, I don’t think I’d have had my act together sufficiently to rush home and recreate two more boards.”

“You think someone whacked Joan with one of those boards and then ran out of the store?”

“Can you think of a better explanation?”

“It could have been Jordan. Maybe he wants to reconcile with Stella now that she has some money. Maybe Joan threatened to tell Stella about their affair, so Jordan hit her with the charcuterie board. Or with something else, for that matter. Did you notice any statuettes or artsy objects that he might have put back in place?”

“You’re saying he dumped the charcuterie board, then when she didn’t agree to keep quiet, he grabbed a display item and whacked her over the head?”

“It’s possible. Should we check on Joan?”

Nina’s Jaguar was closest, so we hopped in, and she drove to the hospital. We headed straight to the emergency room, under the assumption Joan was probably still there.

Unfortunately, she had been sent to surgery and they anticipated it would be hours before anyone could see her. Probably not until the following day.

Nina met my gaze as we left the hospital. “That sounds a whole lot worse than I thought. Did you get that impression, too?”

I nodded. “Those big boards are heavy.”

“She might have been hit with the edge of a board.”

I cringed at the thought. “Let’s hope the surgery goes well.”

Nina drove us back to her house, and I walked on to mine. After letting Daisy out for a few minutes, I contemplated what to bake for Wanda. Other people were probably making savory casseroles to bring over. Then I remembered one of Wanda’s favorites—banana pudding. It didn’t hold up very long, but with friends and family eating it, that probably didn’t matter. I thought Wanda would be delighted.

I did a quick scan of my kitchen for the ingredients. Luck was with me. I even had heavy cream and a fresh box of vanilla wafer cookies.

Two hours later, I had just mixed vanilla and a little butter into the pudding when I heard a timid knock at the kitchen door.