The Cakes of Wrath (11 page)

Okay. Wow. That put a whole new spin on things. “He's in the military?”

“No. He's a private contractor of some kind. The fact is, I don't even really know him. We met at the Dizzy Duke one night. The rest of you had gone home, and I was there by myself. And then, all of a sudden, there he was. He just sort of swept me off my feet.”

It was hard to imagine Edie being swept anywhere, and I felt a
ping
of curiosity about the guy who had actually done it. “Really? You never said anything.” At least not to me and, unless someone at Zydeco was lying, not to anyone else there.

“I'm not the one-night-stand type—you know that. But it was the night my sister got engaged and I was feeling pretty lousy. It's not that I'm not happy for her. I just always thought I'd find someone first. I'm thirty-five and single, and she's not even thirty yet and she's got this great guy . . . So
my
great guy bought me a drink, and we talked for a while. He was just so different and so kind, and he was heading off into enemy territory the next day . . . I never expected this to happen.”

If he was that great, he really did deserve to know about the baby, I thought. “You don't even have an address where you can write to him?”

“I wish it was that simple. I don't even have a name.”

I managed to get out another surprised, “Oh.”

“Yeah. Right?” Edie stopped walking. “So there it is. My dirty little secret. I really don't want the others to know about this, okay? And my mother can
never
know the truth. Not speaking to me would be mild compared to what she'd do if she knew the father was a complete stranger. Can we just keep it between the two of us?”

“Absolutely,” I said. But this changed things in a big way. Edie was more alone than I'd originally thought. She needed us far more than I'd realized. Under the circumstances, I had to make sure Miss Frankie minded her own business. And that wasn't going to be easy.

After my encounter with Detective Winslow and my conversation with Edie, I had trouble settling down. I was too tired to talk to Miss Frankie and come out on top. And maybe I just needed a little TLC of my own. I changed into sweats and a tank top, rescued Cherry Garcia from the freezer, and settled down in front of the TV to watch that episode of
Castle.

My mind kept drifting back to Destiny's murder and forward to babysitting cousin Pearl Lee so Miss Frankie could magically turn her into a functioning member of society. It sounded like that ought to be a piece of cake. My thoughts were so scattered, I grabbed a pen and paper and tried to organize a few of them. I couldn't put Pearl Lee to work on an actual cake, but there were dozens of small tasks I could assign her that would keep her busy and help the rest of the staff.

I made a long list of odd jobs, ranging from “put together cake boxes” to “help Edie with filing.” Feeling pleased with myself for getting the Pearl Lee situation under control, I turned to a clean sheet of paper and started three new lists. I labeled one “People Who Might Have Supplied Destiny with Drugs”; the second, “People Who Might Have Wanted to Hurt Moose”; and the third, “People Angry at Me.”

I put Detective Winslow at the top of my list, just because I could. I figured turnabout was fair play. If he could suspect me for no good reason, I could do the same for him. Then I added him to Destiny's list, too. Maybe he was a dirty cop. Maybe he gave Destiny a fatal overdose to keep her from ratting him out.

Keon Fisher went on Moose's list. I had no idea whether he actually had a motive for trying to run Moose down, but I remembered Destiny telling me that she thought Keon was driving the van. If that was true, there must have been something going on that Moose had neglected to mention.

I put Felix Blackwater's name in Destiny's column followed by a question mark. There was no doubt in my mind that Destiny's loosey-goosey attitude about the alliance had annoyed him, and he'd been furious about her decision to run in the election, but I couldn't picture Felix as a drug dealer.

I added Moose and Scotty to Destiny's list as well. I didn't seriously think that either of them had a reason to want her out of the way. They'd both seemed grief-stricken. But I knew now that Moose had a temper. If he'd found out that Destiny was using again or that she was fooling around on him, he could have snapped. He could have easily doctored any pills he found in her possession.

Scotty was another story entirely. By his own account, his relationship with Destiny had been a troubled one. I got the feeling that Moose liked having Scotty around more than Destiny had. And there was no denying that Scotty been upset by the suggestion that her latest stint in rehab hadn't been successful. How many times had she gone for help? How many times had she failed? How many failed attempts to get it right could Scotty take? He and Moose had both known that Destiny would be at the Chopper Shop alone that morning.

I added Edgar Zappa to Destiny's column next. I didn't know what was going on between the two of them, but I thought there had been something. Were they having an affair? Had it gone bad? After some thought, I put him on Moose's list as well. Who had more motive to want Moose out of the way than a lover who wanted the woman they both loved all to himself? Even if they'd been just friends, he might have answers to questions Moose didn't.

Reluctantly, I added Aquanettia to Destiny's column and wrote “barking dog” and “election” next to her name. And then I put a big old question mark in case Destiny's dealer was someone else entirely.

I couldn't think of anyone else who might have wanted to hurt Destiny, and I still couldn't think of anyone nursing a grudge against me. But that feeling I'd had earlier kept bothering me. I was missing something important. I was almost certain of it.

• • •

Miss Frankie walked through the door to my office at ten on the dot Thursday morning, trailed by a voluptuous sixty-something brunette (surely not her natural color). The hair on both women had been teased and sprayed to withstand hurricane-force winds. Judging from the shiny texture of the second woman's complexion—visible even under layers of makeup—I suspected that from time to time she indulged in a little Botox. Or a lot. I wasn't sure her facial muscles could actually move.

Miss Frankie greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, sugar. Pearl Lee, this is Rita, Philippe's wife. Rita, my cousin, Pearl Lee Gates.”

Was she joking? Pearly Gates?

Pearl Lee noticed my surprise and laughed. I was right. Nothing on her face other than her mouth moved. “It's a hideous name, isn't it? Trust me, it's not mine by choice. I only kept Bobby Lee's last name so I could cash the alimony checks. Getting your own name back after a divorce isn't easy. I know. I've done it four times already.”

Both women sat across from my desk. Miss Frankie was wearing a sensible sea foam green pantsuit from circa 1974, and low-heeled sandals to match. Her makeup was subtle and understated, as usual. Pearl Lee wore an obviously expensive gray suit with a pink shell and pumps. Her makeup was more dramatic—smoky eyes and bright red lipstick. The cousins could not have been more different.

Pearl Lee looked around my office slowly, bored curiosity clouding her dark eyes. “So. This is it.”

Miss Frankie swatted her knee. “Don't start, Pearl Lee.” And to me, “She's been pouting about this all morning, so don't let her get to you.”

Oh goody!
Just what I needed, a surly sexagenarian. This week just kept getting better and better. “If Pearl Lee doesn't want to do this, maybe you shouldn't push her,” I said, trying to strike a balance between pleasantly cooperative and “please don't leave this woman with me.”

Miss Frankie gave me a stern look. “Don't
you
start now. I told you why Pearl Lee needs to work here. Everyone in the family agrees that the bailouts have to stop.”

“I'm not a child,” Pearl Lee mumbled.

“Of course not, dear, and this is your chance to prove it. And, Rita, you agreed to hire her.”

“Well, yes, but . . .”

“So here she is.” Miss Frankie stood and settled her handbag in the crook of her arm. She put a hand on Pearl Lee's shoulder and patted gently. “I'll be back to pick you up around five. This is for the best. You'll see.”

Pearl Lee probably felt something about that, but her face didn't reveal what it was.

Realizing that Miss Frankie planned to leave, I smiled at Pearl Lee and said, “Would you mind waiting out in the reception area for a few minutes? I need to discuss something with Miss Frankie before she goes.”

Pearl Lee uncrossed her legs and rose. “Of course not. I'll be right outside. Take your time.”

I followed, and shut the door behind her. I wanted to ask Miss Frankie point-blank why she thought she could get away with inviting Edie's family to the shower after I specifically told her not to, but I knew I'd get more out of her if I used a little finesse.

Returning to my desk, I served up a friendly smile. “So . . . how are the shower preparations coming?”

Miss Frankie beamed and resumed her seat. “I'm having so much fun, sugar. I've been looking at decorations and invitations and themes, and I have so many ideas running through my head, I'm having trouble keeping them all straight.”

“Good. I'm so glad to hear it.” I sat back in my chair and tried to look nonchalant. “Have you set a date yet?”

“No, but I'm getting closer to nailing that down. I just need to clear up a couple of tiny details before I make the final decision.”

“Oh? What details are those?”

Miss Frankie wagged a hand at me. “Now, Rita, don't you worry about that. You said you didn't want anything to do with planning the shower, so you just leave it all to me. I do need to get addresses from you, though. I'll be putting the guest list together over the weekend.”

“Oh. Okay. What addresses do you need from me?”

“Home addresses for all the women who work here, and any other friends of Edie's she might want to invite. I could hand out the staff invitations here, but I think that would be a bit tacky, don't you?”

“I wouldn't worry about that,” I said sweetly. “It can't be any worse than inviting people Edie has specifically said she doesn't want there.”

Miss Frankie put her handbag on the floor. “I suppose you're talking about Edie's mother and sister.”

I had her attention. She couldn't pretend not to hear me. The door was shut, slowing down any attempts at escape. “I suppose I am. You can't invite them, Miss Frankie. Edie doesn't want them there.”

My mother-in-law's smile dulled ever so slightly. “Edie is being ruled by hormones right now. She doesn't really know what she wants.”

I was so astonished I fell back in my seat as if someone had shoved me. “I think that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say. Of course she knows what she wants!”

“If that were the case, she'd be first in line to send her mother an invitation.” Miss Frankie gave her shellacked auburn head a firm shake. “I don't know what the differences are between them, and I don't care. Family is family.”

“With all due respect, Miss Frankie, it's not your decision. You can't force Edie and her mother to reconcile just because you think they should.”

“This isn't about Edie or her mother.” Miss Frankie's voice morphed from Southern syrup to solid steel. “This is about that baby. That child is going to need its parents and its grandparents. It's going to need aunts, uncles, and cousins. Edie and her mother are adults. They ought to be smart enough to put aside their differences and make things work.”

“I don't disagree,” I said. “I don't know what would have happened to me without my family after my parents died. But there are other considerations in play here and the fact remains that it's not your call in Edie's situation. We agreed that you would plan the shower, but that doesn't give you license to overrule Edie's decisions.”

“She'll thank me later.”

“That's what you said about Pearl Lee, but if you ask me, you'll be waiting for both thank-yous for a long, long time.” The words slipped out before I could stop them and I regretted them immediately.

My mother-in-law's stony expression turned to ice right in front of my eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I sighed, wishing I were better at sugarcoating things. “I'm sorry, Miss Frankie. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, but I think you're butting into things that aren't any of your business. I doubt Pearl Lee is feeling all that grateful for the job here, and I know Edie doesn't want help fixing her relationship with her mother. If she did, she'd ask you.”

“Edie wants her baby to grow up estranged from its grandparents?” It was more of a challenge than a question.

“I'm sure she doesn't
want
that. But it's not up to you or me to take over and try to fix it. She was really upset when she called me last night. It took me nearly half an hour to calm her down.”

To give Miss Frankie her due, I think she looked a little guilty for a second. I can't be sure, though. The expression was gone before I could really identify it.

“Just promise that you'll respect her wishes,” I said.

Miss Frankie tweaked the collar of her pantsuit. “I think she's wrong.”

“Duly noted.”

“That baby needs its grandparents.”

Since it would only have one set, I had to agree. “You'll get no argument from me. But again, not the issue.”

She stared at me for a long time before she spoke again. “This thing can go both ways, you know. You have to promise me that you won't let Pearl Lee get away with anything. Keep her busy. She needs it. And for heaven's sake, don't let her anywhere near a man.”

I laughed, hoping that meant that things were okay between us. “What am I supposed to do, keep her locked up in my office for eight hours a day?”

Miss Frankie gave me a pointed look. “If that's what it takes, then yes. I mean it, Rita. Keep an eye on her. She's a sneaky one.”