The Cakes of Wrath (18 page)

Scotty swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. I could tell that my arguments were getting to him. “The police said it was probably an accidental overdose.”

“I know. But what if they're wrong? Detective Winslow won't even listen to me, but he might listen to you.”

Scotty stared at me for what felt like forever. “Look, I'm sure you mean well, but I think you're imagining things. Moose doesn't need this, and neither do I. Losing Destiny has been hard enough on him. She was my kid, but she was messed up, okay? That's all it was.”

I couldn't believe my ears. “That's it? You're just going to shrug it off? Destiny was messed up, so forget it?”

“This is none of your business. Stay out of it.”

“Why? Because you don't want me to discover the truth?”

His confusion evaporated in a blink. “You really are insane, aren't you? She was my
daughter
.”

“And no father has ever killed his daughter in the history of the world? Sorry. I wish that meant more than it actually does.”

Scotty swore long and loud.

I waited patiently for him to calm down, and by patiently I mean that I held my breath and prayed he wouldn't kill me. I thought about Gabriel asking me if I was going to put myself in danger and felt a little guilty about doing it again. But Winslow had me in his crosshairs, and his threat to charge me somehow in Destiny's death had scared me. Sometimes a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do.

“As far as I know,” I said when Scotty's colorful vocabulary finally wound down, “you don't have an alibi for the time of the murder. There's only your word and Moose's that you were both at home sleeping. The fact is, either one of you could have snuck out without the other one knowing. Do you know for sure that Moose never left the house?”

He looked as if he wanted to throttle me, but he kept his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw a few times instead. “Somebody ought to lock you up.”

The fact that he was able to show some restraint gave me a bit more courage. “If I can't figure out who really killed your daughter, you might just get that wish. Detective Winslow would like nothing more than to put me in a cell and throw away the key.”

“And your solution is to warn Pearl Lee about
me
?”

“I didn't accuse you,” I said. “I suggested that Pearl Lee show a little restraint. You just lost your daughter. I didn't want Pearl Lee making a nuisance of herself. She can be a bit enthusiastic.”

“Well, she's also been a source of comfort. We're both adults. We can make our own decisions, so back off. Because if you keep going, you just might end up regretting it.”

I know I should have been frightened, but I was too angry to think clearly. “Or what?” I challenged. “You brought me outside to threaten me? Okay. Message received. Is there anything else? Because if not, I'm going back inside.”

Scotty stared at me with eyes as cold as death and again I expected him to try hitting me, but he stuffed both hands into the pockets of his shorts and strode away.

I let out a sigh of relief and my knees turned to rubber. Somehow, I managed to turn around and reach for the door handle, but when I spotted a man in a rumpled suit leaning against the wall just a few feet away, a cold chill crept up my spine. It was clear from the expression on his face that Detective Winslow had overheard the whole conversation.

The conversation with Scotty and then spotting Winslow stalking me took some of the joy out of the ribfest. Having to start over at the back of the line didn't help. Neither did the covert way the other diners slid glances at me when they thought I wouldn't notice. By the time the host finally sat me at a table—a tiny little thing stuck in the corner near the kitchen—I was in a foul mood.

I ate quickly, keeping my head down to avoid conversation. I made the mistake of looking up once and thought I saw Gabriel sitting near the window. But since I wasn't in the mood for another lecture from him, I scooted into the corner and prayed he wouldn't notice me.

After lunch, I trotted over to Zydeco so I could check in with Ox and found that they'd encountered a few problems of their own. Abe, our baker, had accidentally knocked over an entire tray of gum paste pine trees, and the fondant on the golf cart had cracked, putting the whole cake behind schedule. I promised to come back to help as soon as I finished with the cleanup, but Ox didn't look happy as I walked out the door. I couldn't blame him. I'd have felt the same way if I'd been in his shoes.

On my way back to the cleanup, I stopped by the drugstore for sunscreen, but I had a feeling that even slathering it over every inch of exposed skin wasn't going to help. It was too little, too late.

By four that afternoon, I was dragging. Sebastian, Paolo, and I had finally finished our assigned section of the neighborhood. We'd bagged all the garbage and arranged it on the curb, where a local trash company would pick it up on Monday. We carried the tools back to Zydeco and put them into the storage shed, after which the guys went off to get a beer and I hobbled across the loading dock to begin my workday.

As I reached for the door, I spotted Detective Winslow in the front seat of a dark-colored Crown Vic that was nudged up against a tree. Was he
kidding
me? My temper flared, but I was too tired and sore for a confrontation. I owed whatever energy I had left to Zydeco.

After washing up and covering my dirty clothes with a chef's jacket, I threw myself into the effort. Okay, maybe
threw
is the wrong word. The heat and sun had sapped my energy and finding focus wasn't easy, so I kind of crawled up to my workstation. But I did my best under the circumstances, adding detail to the buttercream grass “rough” in between yawns.

Pearl Lee sashayed into the design area a whole five minutes before Miss Frankie came through the door, and somehow managed to make herself look like she'd been there all afternoon. I was furious with her for ratting me out to Scotty, but way too tired to talk with her about it. Had she even considered the possibility that she was putting me in danger by telling him what I'd said? Did she care?

I threw myself into my work, doing what little I could to help Ox and Dwight load up the golf course cake—which was a masterpiece, by the way.

And then I packed up and headed for home. To my dismay, Winslow was still there when I hit the parking lot. I tossed my bag into the Mercedes, gave him a little salute as I drove past, and pulled out onto the street. But the more I thought about the day I'd had, the angrier I got.

For the past two days Pearl Lee had ignored every word I said and refused to take direction. She'd thrown me under the bus with Scotty, who had called me out in front of half the neighborhood. She'd even enlisted Gabriel in her schemes, and he was supposed to be on my side.

I was tired of fighting. Tired of the struggle. Tired of feeling like I was always climbing uphill. I knew I couldn't just flip a switch and change everything that was wrong, but I could put an end to one of the battles.

Telling myself that I had to set some firm boundaries before I had to work with Pearl Lee again—and I use the term
work
loosely—I turned the car around. The best way to get Pearl Lee's cooperation would be to talk to her while Miss Frankie was around. So we could avoid any further misunderstandings.

My mother-in-law lives in a rich old neighborhood full of classic old houses and rolling green lawns. At dusk, just before the sun slips below the horizon, I swear you can see money dripping from the trees. By contrast, I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in a poor Hispanic neighborhood in Albuquerque. Driving into this neighborhood used to intimidate me in a big way. After living in Miss Frankie's world for the past year, I'm gradually getting used to having upscale connections but I still don't feel like I belong.

When I pulled up in front of that big white house and saw that it was dark, I realized that Miss Frankie and Pearl Lee weren't home, but I didn't want to leave and risk losing my nerve and my opportunity, so I parked in front of the house and settled down to wait.

Sometime later, I woke up with a start to the sound of someone tapping on the window by my head. It took me a few seconds to gather my wits and figure out where I was. Another heartbeat or two to realize that I was looking at Detective Winslow's ugly mug.

Groaning aloud, I leaned my head back on the seat. “Go away!”

“Would you roll down your window, ma'am?”

I did as he asked, but I made sure he knew I wasn't happy about it. “What?”

“Would you mind telling me what you're doing here?”

“I'm waiting for my mother-in-law to get home. I need to talk with her about something.”

“Is that right?” Winslow took a step back. He ran a glance over my car before looking up the driveway at the house. “This is her place?”

“Yeah.” I tried to stretch my legs, but I'd been sitting in one position too long. They wouldn't move. “I suppose you're going to tell me it's against the law to sit here.”

Winslow returned his eyes to me. “The good folks who live in this neighborhood don't take kindly to folks loitering.”

“I'm not loitering,” I said as I used both hands to straighten one leg. “I'm waiting. There's a difference. What are you doing here anyway?”

Winslow lifted both hefty shoulders. “Working on my case.”

I arranged the other leg in a more natural position and nearly wept at the needle-sharp pricks that meant the blood was flowing again. “By following me?”

“If need be.”

My legs burned. My muscles ached. My face was on fire and my head was pounding. As if all that weren't bad enough, my stomach was painfully empty. “I didn't sell drugs to Destiny Hazen,” I said, shoving open the car door. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“You can tell me as many times as you want. I'm gonna keep following the evidence.”

“None of which leads to me,” I said. I pulled myself out of the car and put both hands on my back, arching gently to stretch the muscles. “But knock yourself out. You won't find anything. I barely even knew her.”

Winslow sucked something from a tooth. “You knew her well enough to share your prescription painkillers.”

“She stole those out of my office. I've told you that.”

“Yes, you have,” Detective Winslow admitted as he hitched up his pants with his elbows.

“You don't have any real evidence against me, and you won't find any.”

“So you say.”

“Because it's true.” I slammed the car door and scowled at him. “Isn't there some kind of law against the police harassing citizens?”

He gave me a smarmy smile. “Ah, but I'm not harassing you. I saw you in the car, unmoving. In light of current events, I was concerned. I came to check on you and make sure you hadn't taken too many pain pills yourself.”

How sweet. “I couldn't even if I wanted to. Destiny stole mine. I suppose you just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“As a matter of fact, I was. Lucky for you.”

“Yeah. I sure
feel
lucky. But as you can see, I'm perfectly all right. Thank you for your concern.” That last bit nearly choked me.

“I'm sure glad to see it,” he said. “I also happened to notice you having a small disagreement with Scotty Justus this afternoon. Would you mind telling me what that was about?”

I worked up some phony dismay. “Don't tell me you didn't get close enough to hear? What a shame.”

“Would you answer my question, ma'am?”

“It was nothing.”

“Looked kind of like something from where I was standing.”

“Oh? And why were you standing there in the first place?”

“Working my case,” he repeated with another shrug.

I felt a primal scream stirring deep inside me, but before it rose to the surface, Miss Frankie's car rounded the corner. I forced down the scream and walked away. I didn't let myself look back, but I could feel Winslow boring holes in my back with his eyes the whole way. And I told myself that I had to find some way to get Detective Winslow off my back soon. Otherwise, I might just give him a reason to lock me up.

Winslow slithered back to his car just as Miss Frankie and Pearl Lee pulled into the driveway. Pearl Lee bounded out of the car first, waggling her fingers at me as she tottered past. Miss Frankie got out a little slower, but she hugged me with her usual enthusiasm. “What a pleasant surprise, sugar. I'm
so
glad you're here. I swear, you must have read my mind. I have a few things I need to go over with you.”

After the day I'd had, her hug felt like soft fleece. I wanted to wrap myself in it and stay there for hours. “Oh? Something concerning Zydeco?”

Miss Frankie released me, then looked down. “Rita, sweetheart, what
have
you been doing?”

I took a look at my clothes and grimaced at what I saw. “Pulling weeds and hauling trash. I didn't realize until we started working today just how badly the neighborhood needed to be spruced up.”

“Well, you're a sight,” she said, completely failing to notice that my “helper” was
not
grunged out to match. “You just run on up to the shower. There's a robe in Philippe's old room and we can throw your things into the washer while we eat.” She started walking toward the back door. “I wanted to talk to you about Edie's baby shower. I'd like your opinions on the location and the menu. I've narrowed both down quite a bit, but you know Edie better than I do. You'll probably have a better idea about what she'd like.” She didn't pause for a response from me and I wasn't fast enough to slide one in before she changed the subject. “You look exhausted, but luckily supper's all ready to heat up. I'll pop it into the oven.”

The thought of a hot meal and a shower nearly made my knees buckle. Miss Frankie is a terrific cook and I was starving. “It sounds wonderful,” I said as we entered the kitchen. “But I'm not planning to stay that long.”

Pearl Lee had paused at the table and was digging around in her purse. She glanced up when I spoke, and she wagged a finger at me. “Don't be silly. You look exhausted. Let us take care of you.”

I somehow managed not to laugh at that. Apparently she mistook my admirable restraint for unspoken agreement. “Now really,” she said, taking my arm and tugging me toward the front of the house. “You can't sit down for a meal looking like that.” It seemed as if everyone I'd run into that day had been pushing and pulling me around. Having Pearl Lee pass judgment on me was too much. Maybe a shower and some clean clothes would help me feel better. It sure couldn't hurt.

As gently as I could at that moment, I jerked my arm from her grasp. “I know where the bathroom is. I can get there on my own.”

Pearl Lee's eyes rounded in shock and she shot a “Did you see that?” look at her cousin.

Miss Frankie gave me the raised eyebrows that meant I'd just committed a serious social faux pas. “Are you all right, sugar?”

“I'm fine,” I said, barely resisting the urge to rat out Pearl Lee right then and there. But I knew how my mother-in-law would react if I went on the attack so I put a little honey into my smile and tried to handle the problem Southern style. “It's just been a long day.”

“I'm worried about you,” Miss Frankie said, coming around the island for a closer look at me. “You haven't slowed down a bit since that van almost hit you the other night.”

“I haven't had a chance to slow down,” I said, struggling to keep my smile in place. “We have a couple of large orders this week, and of course, there's everything that comes with being part of the Magnolia Square Business Alliance.”
Which was your idea, by the way
.

Pearl Lee turned her Botox-injected face back in my direction. “I admire you for getting your hands dirty. I really do. My mama would turn over in her grave if I'd done what you did today.”

If I'd said what I was thinking right then, my mother-in-law would never again consider me refined enough to run Zydeco. I already felt like I was walking a razor-thin line. “Yes. Well. It comes with the job, I guess.”

Miss Frankie took my chin in her hand and checked my face thoroughly. “When I suggested that Zydeco become part of the alliance, I didn't realize it would mean putting you to work like that. Couldn't you have sent someone else to do the actual physical labor?”

“If I had done that,” I said, “Zydeco would have been the only member business without its management there. I know you're concerned about appearances but that would have made us look worse than digging in and getting a bit dirty.”

“If you say so.” Miss Frankie's frown deepened a little further. “I suppose you know best. But it might have been nice if one of the others had been able to help you. Obviously, all that work took a lot out of you.”

I slid a look at Pearl Lee, who had suddenly developed a deep fascination with Miss Frankie's china cupboard. “I was supposed to have help,” I said. “Edie is our other alliance member, but since she's in the middle of a high-risk pregnancy, her doctor said absolutely no to helping. I thought I had someone else lined up but it didn't work out.”

“Oh, that sweet thing,” Pearl Lee simpered. “So brave.”

I ignored Pearl Lee partly because I wanted to smack her, and partly because I'd just remembered what Miss Frankie said out on the driveway. “Did you say you wanted to talk to me about the baby shower?”

She shooed me toward the door. “Yes, but we can do that while we eat. Run upstairs. We have about thirty minutes before supper is ready. Pearl Lee, why don't you tear the romaine for a Caesar salad?”

Pearl Lee kicked off her shoes and practically skipped across the room, eager to show Miss Frankie what a willing helper she was.

I climbed the stairs slowly, then grabbed a towel from the linen closet and the robe from its hook in Philippe's childhood room. I was in and out in less than a minute, too tired and emotional to risk a meaningful encounter with his things. We'd been on the verge of divorce when he died, but losing him had made me realize that divorce and separation don't always kill love. Sometimes they just alter its appearance for a little while. I had loved Philippe completely once, and I was coming to terms with the fact that part of me always would.

In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. I'm not sure anything has ever felt any better than that hot water melting away the stiffness in my joints and the soreness in my muscles as it carried off the dirt I hadn't been able to clean off at Zydeco. By the time I returned to the kitchen, Miss Frankie and Pearl Lee were sitting at the table surrounded by mouthwatering aromas and glasses of sweet tea, laughing together at something.

Miss Frankie hopped up and poured a glass for me. “Just in time,” she said as she put it on the table in front of me. “Pearl Lee and I were just talking about the time our uncle Ellis shot himself in the leg, trying to keep my daddy from finding his secret hunting spot. You never heard a man make such a fuss.”

I smiled tiredly and asked, “Which one? Uncle Ellis or your dad?”

Miss Frankie sat again and folded her hands on the table. “Uncle Ellis. Bless his heart, he was a real piece of work, that man. He thought the sun rose and set on his grandnephew Philippe, though.”

Pearl Lee dashed a tear from the corner of her eye and sighed. “Lord, but I hate change. I wish things could just stay the same forever.” Catching back a sob, she stumbled to her feet and went in search of a tissue.

Miss Frankie let out a shaky sigh and got up to pull dinner from the oven. “Change is hard,” she agreed. And then she shook off the mood and was back to her old self. “Speaking of change, Rita, we really need to nail down a date and time for the baby shower. We need to get moving in case Edie goes into labor early, but I can't settle any of the other details until we've talked.”

I looked over to see what she'd made for dinner, but all I could see was a covered casserole dish. “What does Edie say? Have you asked her?”

“Well, of course not. I'm working on surprising her.”

I laughed and reached for my glass. “Good luck with that. You already asked her for addresses. She knows about the shower.”

“She knows there
is
a shower in the works,” Miss Frankie corrected me. “She doesn't know where or when or—” She cut herself off suddenly and cut a sharp glance at me. “Or any of the other details.”

That fleeting look made me uneasy. “What details?”

Miss Frankie pulled a pan from the stovetop and removed the lid. Steam drifted up around her head. “Oh, you know,” she said with a casual wave of the lid. “Decorations, food, flowers . . .”

“The guest list?”

Miss Frankie transferred something creamy and rich into a serving dish. “I do want to get your opinion on the venue.”

The pleasant glow from my own shower evaporated and I sat up a little straighter. “Venue? What venue? I thought we'd just have the shower at Zydeco some evening after work.”

Miss Frankie gave me some big, wide amber-colored eyes. “Oh, Rita. Really.” She laughed and sprinkled parsley over the dish. “You can't have it at Zydeco. That's hardly an appropriate setting to celebrate that sweet little baby, and there's certainly not enough room.”

A warning buzz skittered across the back of my neck. “There's plenty of room,” I said. “We're having a small shower, remember? It's just for the Zydeco family, and maybe a few other friends if Edie has anyone else she wants to invite.”

“I'll work out those details,” Miss Frankie said without looking at me. “You're not to worry about the guest list. But I would like you to look at the menu I've discussed with the caterer.”

I stood so I could look her in the eye. “We don't need a caterer. I thought we agreed on that.”

Miss Frankie smiled sweetly and pulled another serving dish from a cupboard. “I know what you think, and I know how Edie feels, but I simply cannot put together a skimpy little party for that baby.” She held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “Don't argue with me, Rita. I've been a mother and I know a thing or two about stubborn pride and regrets. And besides, we made a deal. I'll take over the shower. You give Pearl Lee a job.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“You've done your part, and you've done it beautifully. I couldn't be more pleased. Pearl Lee certainly seems happy with y'all at the bakery. She was telling me all about the golf course cake and how beautiful it's going to be. I couldn't resist sneaking a peek at it while I was there. She seems happier than I've ever seen her, and I'm sure it's because she's contributing something of value.”

Or because she'd been chasing after Scotty for three days. But how could I admit failure after
that
? My brain was too sluggish to keep our conversation straight. And then Pearl Lee came back into the room and gave me an almost maternal kiss on the top of my head, adding to the confusion I felt. “But the thing is,” I said around a yawn, “Edie has been very clear about what she wants and what she doesn't want.”

“Yes, of course. She wants a happy, healthy baby. That's the most important thing of all.” Miss Frankie carried the salad to the table and the scent of garlic made my stomach rumble. “Now no more talk about the shower or about Zydeco until after we eat,” she said firmly. “I can show you the menu later, if you're not too tired.” Her smile stretched her mouth wide, and her expression seemed as sweet as it could possibly have been—but the glint of steel in her eye made me suspect that I'd been outmaneuvered once again.