Chapter 13
Dear Sophie,
I love salami. There’s just nothing better. But my husband insists that it can spoil quickly and refuses to let me put it on a tray as an appetizer. Is he right?
Hostess in Pig, Kentucky
Dear Hostess,
Salami should be sliced while cold, but served at room temperature to get the full benefit of the flavor.
Sophie
“Whoa! That was a whopper of a detail to conveniently forget. Makes me wonder what else she didn’t tell me.”
“I don’t think she knows.”
He drew his head back. “She doesn’t know that her husband suspected her of poisoning his food?”
“He didn’t want anyone to know. Humphrey took samples to a friend of his. Wolf doesn’t sound particularly interested because the cause of death was definitely related to something Hollis inhaled. I think he said it probably triggered an underlying respiratory condition.”
“Wolf’s no dummy. If Kelsey noticed Hollis being careful about what he ate, she might have changed her method of getting rid of him.” He was silent for a moment. “That certainly does change the picture. If she hires me, I’ll have to have a little talk with Wolf. She’s right about one thing. Wolf wouldn’t be sniffing around bees unless he thought something else was going on.”
Voices outside drew our attention. Alex dropped his arms, and we walked over to the kitchen door. No one was there.
“It’s coming from the backyard,” I said.
We hurried to the sunroom, where we spotted Bernie and Mars unloading coolers from a truck parked in the alley. With the gate open, we could see the hound dog logo of The Laughing Hound on the truck. Daisy raced around the backyard, happy to be home.
We walked out to help them. Bernie had brought stacks of cutting boards with grooves to catch juices from the meats. I carried them to a table next to the grill. Mars walked back to Bernie’s house to fetch his grill. Francie and Duke came over through the gate between our properties. Nina heard Mars rolling Bernie’s grill along the street and came back with him, loaded down with pitchers of some kind of cocktail.
I hurried back inside to slice pineapples to throw on the grill. I cut off the tops and the bottoms, then attacked the sides and removed the little brown eyes that remained on the pineapples. I cut them into lovely slices and tossed them into a bowl so Bernie could add them to the grill. In my opinion, they didn’t need any seasoning because the heat would intensify the yummy sweetness. As I brought them out to the grill, Parker and Trula showed up carrying platters of cheeses and crackers, followed closely by Humphrey, carrying a big pot of macaroni and cheese. His not-so-charming mother accompanied him.
“Humphrey!” I said. “You must have a gas stove. Hello, Mrs. Brown.”
Her nostrils flared in disgust, and she muttered, “Good evening, Sophie.”
“Actually, my house is entirely electric,” said Humphrey, “but for obvious reasons, the funeral home has a generator, so I cooked this there.”
Nina overheard him. She whispered to me, “I am not eating anything cooked in a funeral home!”
“Good idea,” I whispered back. “He probably baked it in the crematorium.”
From the look on her face, she did not appreciate my sarcasm.
Other neighbors began to arrive with their dogs and before we knew it, a party was in full swing with everyone pitching in.
Trula joined me at the beverage table. “Thank you so much for hosting this, Sophie. It’s a brilliant way to use up the food that will spoil. Parker is a nut for cheese. He thinks cheese is a food group. We kept these in a cooler to be sure they’d be good, but I’m thrilled to get rid of them.”
“It looks like quite an exotic assortment.”
“It is.” She lowered her voice. “I’m glad we have an alternative to Natasha’s appetizer.”
“I didn’t see her arrive. What did she bring?” I tried to sound upbeat but was almost afraid to find out what she had concocted.
“Well, she glided in with Jay Charles on her arm!” She winked at me. “But you meant the food. She went to a lot of trouble to cut up a watermelon like a basket.”
“Those are cute!”
“Not when they’re filled with a watermelon, olive, and mushroom salad.”
My eyes met hers. “No one will eat it. Ugh. At least she didn’t add anchovies. One of us will have to distract her while the other one spoons it into a little trash bag so she’ll think it was eaten.”
“That’s probably best . . .” Her voice trailed off.
At that very moment, I heard someone cry out in pain. From where we were standing, we had a perfect view of the little drama that unfolded when Lavinia Brown twisted her ankle and grabbed Jay Charles as she fell to the grass.
“Lavinia!” he cried.
She gazed up at him. “How silly of me. I fear I have broken my ankle.”
Jay immediately knelt next to her and palpated her ankle.
Natasha edged up to Trula and me and hissed, “Did you see that? The nerve of that woman. She did that on purpose. Broken ankle, my fanny! He came with me!”
I felt sorry for Natasha. She was obnoxious and thought she was always right, but she continued struggling to achieve her dreams, no matter what. Most people would have given up by now, happy to have a successful local television show. And now she had set her sights on Jay, but she was being outsmarted by an older woman.
Trula elbowed me. I nodded and hurried off to find a trash bag while Lavinia held Natasha’s attention.
Keeping a close eye on Natasha, I scooped a generous amount of the questionable salad into a trash bag, tied a knot in the top, and hustled it off to the garbage can just inside the gate.
When I returned, Lavinia was seated in a chair with her ankle up. Jay Charles attended her solicitously while Natasha stood over her like a vulture, saying, “It’s not swelling.”
I returned to Trula, who was stifling giggles. “Can you believe the two of them are fighting over Jay?” she asked. “He’s quite a catch, of course, but who would be that obvious?”
“I hope Natasha won’t pull a stunt now to draw Jay’s attention to her. At least I managed to consume some of her salad.”
Trula’s gaze shifted. “I’m surprised that Kelsey has the nerve to be here. So tragic about Hollis. Parker and I are shaken to the core.”
“I invited Kelsey.”
“You did?”
“She’s had a very tragic life. You wouldn’t believe what she has been through.”
“Oh, I doubt that. She’s even more of a threat now that she’s a wealthy widow.”
Why did Trula have to be such a snob? I couldn’t help myself. “I’m single.”
Trula snorted. “You’re not chasing my husband, sweetheart. Kelsey had the nerve to call Parker and ask him to represent her. At least she’s dressed decently tonight. I guess I’m overly sensitive because I’ve been spending a lot of time at the library. It breaks my heart every time I see Cindy there. She does a good job of hiding her feelings and keeping a stiff upper lip, but when I think how that young woman came into her life and ousted her like last week’s leftovers, well, all I can say is that I hope some young Twinkie does the same to Kelsey someday so she’ll know how it feels.”
When she put it that way I understood why she disliked Kelsey so much. “I guess you spent a lot of time with Cindy?”
“Parker, Hollis, and Gage were law partners for a long time. We celebrated together and partied together. Of course we knew one another well. Now it’s down to poor Parker. I don’t know how he’ll manage to handle their caseload all by himself.” Trula whispered, “He’s talking about bringing Alex on board!”
I didn’t know if Alex would like that. He seemed to enjoy being his own boss and calling the shots. But maybe I was wrong about that. “Are you still volunteering at the library?”
“On Wednesdays. Promise you won’t breathe a word of this, but I’m doing genealogical research into Parker’s family. It’s so hard to find a great gift for him. He’s related to the Revolutionary War spy John Dixon. I thought it would be a wonderful gift to have his family tree painted by a local artist.”
The name John Dixon sounded familiar to me. “Parker will love that. Who was John Dixon? The only one I know is the ghost on Prince Street.”
“That’s him! Can you imagine being related to someone who was so brave? Parker would fall apart on his first day as a spy. He definitely didn’t get the bravery gene from his ancestors. I haven’t found the genealogical link between them yet, but I still have some digging to do. I’ve gotten to know Jay a lot better, too. He’s often there with me searching for information on his house.” She paused and watched her husband talking with Kelsey. “Now, tell me why we’re calling these charcuterie boards. If I recall my French correctly, and I think I do, charcuterie means processed meats like salamis and pâtés.”
“I’m no French expert, but I believe you’re right. We could call them storm boards if you like that better.”
Trula laughed. “I have no objection to those fabulous steaks Bernie is grilling. And it looks like he has some lovely sausages and chicken on the grill, too. And I have to admit that I do like this sort of communal style of eating at long tables with boards of food bringing us all together. Such a fun change from formal dinners. It’s sort of a pop-up dinner, isn’t it? No one knows what will be served or who will be there.”
She drifted away, and I had an awful feeling that she was looking for someone more interested in bashing Kelsey.
Madison sidled over to me and murmured, “Can you believe a woman Lavinia’s age pulling that kind of stunt? I swear I would die before I did something like that to get a man’s attention! I’m glad to see that Kelsey is appropriately dressed tonight. I saw her at the hardware store the other day and honest to goodness, the men couldn’t take their eyes off of her blouse down to there and her skirt up to you know where.” She laughed. “Listen to me. I’m beginning to sound like my grandmother!”
“Take the time to talk with Kelsey. You might like her more than you expect.”
“That would be the gracious thing to do, wouldn’t it? I’ll go do that right now.”
Jay Charles moseyed up and helped himself to a drink. “I’m so sorry that I haven’t anything to contribute. I don’t cook.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s all in good fun. Bernie needed to use up the meat he’s cooking.”
“Actually, it’s kind of nice for me. Since my wife died, I eat mostly takeout. It’s good, but not quite the same as a home-cooked meal. I hope you’ll let me reciprocate some time by taking you out to dinner.”
I made a mental note to include him for dinner at my house more often. “That’s very kind, but not at all necessary.”
“Sophie,” he said, “I understand that you were the one who found Hollis in the street.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Was he able to speak?”
“Yes, but he didn’t say much. He was having difficulty breathing.”
“No clue or hint as to what might have caused his condition?”
“Not really.”
Jay rubbed the back of his neck and gazed at the ground. “Hollis and I were friends for a long time. I was after him for years to shed weight and exercise. If he’d had a heart attack, I would have said I had seen it coming. But I find the circumstances around his death to be peculiar. I pulled some strings and got a look at the autopsy report, which definitely indicates inhalation of some kind of poison. There are indications of an underlying issue that may have made him more sensitive.”
“That’s what Wolf said.”
“Sophie, Hollis wasn’t an idiot. It’s not difficult to imagine that anyone could mistakenly spray an aerosol insecticide in a manner that could blow back into one’s face. But if that happened, anyone would have stepped away for fresh air, thus reducing the amount of exposure. Had Hollis inhaled a great deal of insecticide, it would have made him sick, but probably wouldn’t have killed him.”
I understood where he was going with this line of thought. “And wouldn’t he have told the EMTs if that had happened?”
“Exactly!” Jay beamed at me. “And he wouldn’t have sprayed bees in the dark, after the underground dinner.”
“Not unless Kelsey was afraid and he did it to pacify her. But she claims he came home, took a sleeping pill with a drink, and went to bed.”
“That sounds more like him. Hollis, for all his wonderful traits, was not much of a hands-on kind of guy. He was a pick-up-the-phone type. Even when it was something as easy as trimming bushes or raking leaves, Hollis preferred to pay someone to do it.” Jay licked his lips. “I hope you don’t think I’m criticizing Hollis. He was always very busy. I was raised to do things for myself. More than once I pitched in because Cindy was undertaking something that Hollis should have done for her around the house.”
“We all have our priorities.” I paused for a moment as a thought occurred to me. “If Hollis sprayed the bees, wouldn’t the cans still be in the trash?”
“How foolish of me. Of course! Excuse me, Sophie.”
Jay hustled toward Kelsey. He gave her a big hug, and I was under the impression that he might be expressing his condolences.
The evening air was cooler than normal, probably a consequence of the storm that had passed through. Mars turned off the grill and built a fire in the outdoor fireplace, while I walked around lighting candles and lanterns.
There was no question in my mind that I preferred life with electricity. It wasn’t even close. But at that very moment, in the company of good friends, with the scent of grilled meats and pineapple in the air, the crackling fire and flickering candles added a certain charm that electric lights couldn’t match.
I was setting up the ice-cream sundae boards when Jay sidled over toward me. He whispered, “Kelsey confirms exactly what you told me. Hollis took a sleeping pill with a glass of Scotch and went up to bed.”
Jay pulled out a pen and wrote something on the back of a paper napkin. “I’m going over to look through their trash. Call me if Kelsey leaves before I come back.”
“Maybe you should take someone with you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Mars!” I called. “Could you give me a hand?”
He ambled over with a tall, icy drink in his hand. “What do you think? I like the fire, even though it’s the middle of the summer. Sort of like a campfire, it adds ambiance.”
“Could you serve dessert?” I asked. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Shh. We don’t want to draw any attention.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth I regretted them. There were few things I could have said that would have intrigued him more.