Chapter 15
Dear Natasha,
My husband doesn’t want me to set up his best friend with one of my girlfriends. I think he’s being unreasonable. They would be perfect for each other. I’m tempted to do it anyway. What do you think?
Playing Cupid in Arrow, Tennessee
Dear Playing Cupid,
Go for it! It’s hard to meet people. They’ll appreciate your efforts. What’s the worst that could happen?
Natasha
I gasped. “Joan is dead?”
“Do you know all these people?”
“Not super well, but yes, I know them.”
“Is it true that Joan was having an affair with Stella’s ex-husband?”
“That’s the scuttlebutt, but I can’t verify it. I have no personal knowledge about that. Do you know if Stella has a lawyer?”
“Mmm, I don’t see anything on file yet. But it’s early.”
“That’s what I needed to know. Thanks!” I ended the call and pressed in Alex German’s number. He was a much-respected attorney in Old Town. But it was Sunday and the recording said to call tomorrow.
Oh no! Fretting about Stella, I made myself a cup of tea and for no particular reason, Ronin Walker came to mind. I phoned his office.
“Ronin Walker.”
“Hi. This is Sophie Winston.”
“Hello, Sophie! What can I do for you?”
“Do you practice criminal law?”
“I do.” He sounded cautious. “Is this about Orson’s murder, because that might be a conflict of interest.”
“Actually, I’m calling about Stella St. James.” I told him what had happened in the art gallery. “Wolf says she’s only being questioned, but I think she needs someone to help her. Especially now that Joan has died. I feel certain that her mother, Myra, would be willing to pay for the bond if they charge her.”
“No problem. I’ll head over to the police station right now and find out what’s going on.”
“Thanks, Ronin. I hate to press my luck, but would you have time to see me tomorrow?”
“Sure. How’s ten in the morning?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
I thanked him and hoped for the best. Poor Stella!
I measured sugar and cornstarch and added them to a thick-bottomed pot to make more pudding. As I stirred in the milk, I wondered why Stella had been taken in for questioning. Had Joan been revived long enough to identify Stella as the person who bonked her on the head? That had to be it.
As I cracked an egg, someone knocked at the kitchen door. Daisy whined as the door opened and Wolf walked in. She turned in happy circles as he petted her. Jealous Mochie sprang from the window to the floor and mewed at Wolf, who picked him up.
“What’s cooking?”
I whisked the egg and added a bit of the hot pudding to temper it. “Banana Pudding with Salted Caramel.”
“Wow! That sounds great. Will there be bowls to lick?”
“Maybe. If you answer some questions.”
“You drive a tough bargain. Depends on what the questions are.”
I knew I had to phrase them carefully. If I blurted what I wanted to know, Wolf would clam up and even banana pudding wouldn’t convince him to answer me.
“I should be mad at you, you know,” he said.
“At me? What on earth for?”
“You should have told me that you’re a witness to Joan’s murder.”
“A witness? Hardly. Nina and I arrived after the act was a fait accompli.”
Wolf set Mochie down and walked around the island to face me. I stirred the pudding.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Okay. If you tell me what evidence you have against Stella.”
If I hadn’t known him very well, I might not have noticed the very faint moment of surprise in his eyes. The man was so hard to read. But I caught it. Something was up.
“You first.”
I capitulated. “Nina and I walked into the gallery. The first thing I noticed was Stella. It appeared that all the food had slid off a food board and landed around her feet with the food board on top of it. Then I realized that Joan was sprawled on the floor. There was a food board about a yard away from her feet on the ground and bits of food were scattered all over. A real mess.”
“Where was Tripp Fogarty?”
“He wasn’t there.”
Wolf studied me. “Are you sure?”
“I suppose he could have been in the back of the store. I didn’t see Tripp until he arrived with flowers from a florist while they were loading Joan into the ambulance.”
Wolf’s eyes studied me. “Can Nina confirm that?”
“You bet. I can do you one better. Wong was there by then.”
Wolf sucked in a deep breath. “Excuse me.” He walked outside and made a phone call.
When he returned, I asked, “Did you spring Stella?”
“She wasn’t under arrest, Sophie. Apparently she stopped talking when her lawyer, Ronin Walker, arrived. She’s still a suspect, but Tripp is, too.”
“Oh?”
“Tripp claims he wasn’t there when Stella hit Joan with a food board. What do you think? Is it possible that he hit Joan and ran out of the gallery?”
I poured the pudding into a bowl to cool and handed Wolf the pot and a silicone spatula. “Absolutely.”
Wolf licked pudding off the spatula. “We need to interview Tripp again. You entered through the front door. Right? Did you see anyone running away?”
“I heard someone scream. Twice. I assumed it was Stella. She seemed to be in shock. It’s possible someone ran out the front way and we didn’t notice, but I can’t say that I recall anything like that. The timing would have been very tight. Stella was in the process of carrying the boards in from her van, which was parked in the alley. The first board was still on the table intact. The second one must have been used to hit Joan. And Stella was holding the third one. So the killer would have had mere minutes to do it.”
Wolf nodded. “It only takes mere minutes.”
“And Stella would have been focused on the board, making sure she didn’t knock it around and shift the contents. Who gave you the tip that Stella did it?”
“Someone called it in to our anonymous tip line.”
Rats. That meant someone didn’t want to testify about what he or she saw. “I heard you dropped by to see Myra Chatsworth.”
Wolf groaned. “She doesn’t like you much.”
“I can’t blame her. I think I’d feel the same way. The store belongs in their family. I’m an outsider. Does she think I killed Orson for it?”
Wolf simply tilted his head, which I took to mean yes.
I used the microwave to make a quick batch of caramel. While it cooked, I took out a nice serving dish and flaked salt.
“I didn’t know you could make caramel like that.” Wolf peered into the container.
“Careful. It’s bubbling hot.”
I began to assemble the dish while Wolf looked on. He snitched a vanilla wafer. “You really had no idea that he was leaving the store to you?”
“Not a clue. At the engagement party, he pulled me aside and said there was something he wanted to talk with me about. I assumed it was some kind of charity event, but now I wonder if it didn’t have something to do with the store. Have you dealt with Ronin Walker?”
“Yeah. Seems like a nice guy.”
“And very good looking. What do you think about Ronin and Wong?”
Wolf snorted. “One of the rules I go by in my life is no fix-ups. They never work out and both of the people hate you forever.”
“It doesn’t have to be obvious. I could host a little party in my backyard and invite both of them.”
“In case you didn’t understand my previous objection—no, Sophie. Just no!”
“I could ask her to meet me at his office for some reason.”
“Changing the location does not make a difference. Don’t do it!”
I finished layering the components in the dish and beat sweetened whipping cream in my mixer, which ended that line of conversation. I took out a small bowl and layered in the leftover pudding, cookies, caramel sauce, and salt. After adding a dollop of whipped cream on the top, I added a spoon and handed it to Wolf.
He dug into it while I piped the whipped cream on the top on the banana pudding I had made for Wanda.
“Mmm, mmm.” Wolf licked his spoon. “Tastes like my childhood, only better.”
“I’m glad you like it. Maybe I’ll make some to serve to Ronin and Wong.”
“I want nothing to do with that. And I will say ‘I told you so.’ ”
“Maybe I’ll be the one saying that.”
He waved as he left.
I placed a lid on the serving dish, grabbed my keys, and left the house, taking care to lock the door behind me. I carried the bowl over to the house where Wanda lived with Natasha, Griselda, and Charlene.
I shifted the dish to balance it on my left arm so I could rap the door knocker.
Wanda opened the door. “Sophie!” She lowered her voice so much that it was barely understandable. “Am I glad to see you.”
I stepped inside. “I brought—”
A man appeared behind her. It took me a second to realize that he was Orson’s former business partner, Karl Roth.
Standing in front of him, Wanda appeared almost petite, even though she wasn’t a small woman. She seemed flustered as she took my dish into her hands.
His fluffy white hair was parted on the side. He wore glasses with a black frame and displayed a mouthful of white teeth when he smiled. In true old South fashion, he had donned a blue and white seersucker jacket to battle the heat and sported a yellow bow tie and matching pocket square. No one could accuse him of not being dapper.
“Sophie!” he said with a big grin that worried me. He reached out as though he meant to shake my hand, so I extended it. He took it into both of his rather soft and fleshy hands. “What a delight. I have heard marvelous things about your parties. You simply must host one for me sometime.”
As politely as possible, I said, “I rarely host parties as part of my business. I’m more in the line of arranging conventions.”
“Surely you would do me that courtesy. What have you brought?” He lifted the top and peered inside. “Whipped cream? Hmm. Chocolate Delight?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s Banana Pudding with Salted Caramel.”
Reminiscent of Fred Sanford when he feigned a heart attack, Karl placed a hand over his heart. His eyes wide, he declared, “Be still, my heart! I must eat some of that. I didn’t think banana pudding could be improved upon, but it appears you may have achieved it!”
Wanda watched him with a horrified expression. She turned to me. “I’ll just put this on the dining table. Thank you for bringing it, dear. I do love banana pudding.”
“That’s something else we have in common, Wanda! C’mon, let’s try it.” Karl snaked his arm under hers in what was probably intended as a gentlemanly manner, but poor Wanda still held the big dish I had brought.
“Maybe you could carry the dish for Wanda,” I said. “It’s rather heavy.”
“How thoughtless of me.” Karl showed his pearly whites again as he took it from her.
When his back was to us, Wanda seized my hand and looked at me with desperation in her eyes.
Poor Wanda. He wasn’t her type at all. But he certainly was trying to win her over.
“Don’t leave me alone,” she breathed. “I can’t shake him!”
“All right. I’ll stick by you for a while.”
We walked over to the table that was laden with food. I could hear voices in the living room.
Karl had already filled a bowl with my pudding and was savoring it.
Wanda helped herself and said, “Let’s go to the living room where we can sit down.”
I followed her, and promptly sat down beside her on a love seat.
Karl shot me a confused look. But he still had a spoon in one hand and the bowl in the other, so he sat in a chair. “Y’all,” he announced to the others in the room, “there’s a delicious banana pudding in the dining room.” He continued eating until he was finished. “That was wonderful, Sophie. My mama was the best cook I ever met, and I thought no one could improve on her banana pudding, but that salty caramel sure is tasty. I’m fairly handy in the kitchen myself. I’m tryin’ to talk Wanda into letting me cook her a special dinner over here. We can share stories about Orson, drink some wine, and toast our old friend.”
Wanda, who was anything but prim or proper, said in a cautious voice, “Natasha doesn’t like anyone else in her kitchen.”
“Nonsense! I don’t believe that,” he said with a laugh. “I tape her show and watch it at night. Natasha is a sweetheart! She would love to have me show her a dish or two.”
I shook my head. “Wanda is right. Natasha is very”—I tried to choose a kind word—“particular about her kitchen.” I tried to swing him to the subject of Orson. “You knew Orson for a very long time. This must be difficult for you.”
“I sure did. We had some good times.”
“Excuse me,” said Wanda. “I need to say good-bye to someone.”
“Of course,” I said.
As soon as she was engaged with someone else, Karl dropped his cheery facade. His eyes narrowed ominously. He leaned toward me. “I don’t know what kind of game you played with Orson, but I do know that he was a low-down, dirty, conniving sneak, and the fact that he gave you his store tells me you are just like him. My dear, you best watch out or you will soon come to the same painful end.”