"I can't ask Patrick to go with me," she said, her voice going up slightly. "My shop is officially closed down, remember?" Maxine looked up at her Grandma Ellie in despair as she continued to fill truffle shells quickly with a chocolate raspberry mixture, moving from one to the other, with practised ease.
"Then maybe you shouldn't be doing this at all," Ellie said. "She's one of the suspects isn't she?" She had an uncharacteristically worried look on her face as she regarded Maxine now.
"She's also been my best customer. I told her the shop was closed and she asked me to do it from home." She put down a sleeve of chocolate raspberry filling and picked up one of chocolate mango.
"Doesn't mean you have to do it," Grandma Ellie said. "You've got more backbone than that. She sat at the kitchen 'bar' watching Maxine since Maxine had refused her offer to help.
She gave her grandma a look of hurt surprise. "Since when is it about having backbone?"
"Since you're going out to an event for someone who's a murder suspect because you don't want to tell her no!" her Grandma Ellie said hotly.
"Maybe that's because I want to have at least one customer left when and IF my shop opens again."
"Don't be ridiculous." Ellie slapped the air in front of her as if it were an imaginary person she was disgusted with. "As soon as this is over you'll be busier than ever."
"From your lips to God's ear," Maxine said softly reaching across the kitchen counter and hugging her Gran. "Besides I'm taking Sam with me. And if she is guilty maybe I'll see something that will clear Heath."
"It's not even her house."
"I know but since I'm just making truffles and serving wine, I said I'd sit in on the presentation. So I could invest maybe," she said.
Her grandma just looked at her. "You think you're so clever don't you? What if she's in this with Sam?"
"Sam? Why would he be involved?"
"Why would any of them? Why is Ron dead, or Rae-Ann or Kathleen? Heath is in jail. Until you know, it's better safe than sorry."
"OK, I get it. Life is dangerous." She shook her head in sad surprise. She was used to her gran saying 'life is for the living, take a chance.' "But I can't sit here all day and watch television. And I can't see Sam teaming up with Devon to go on a killing spree. I just…I just," she shook her head. "I want this over with."
"We all do," Grandma Ellie said softly. "I'm coming with you."
"What?" She looked at her in amazement. "You are not. Grandma, if anything happened to you, Mom would skin me alive."
"What do you think she's going to do to me if something happens to you?"
Maxine paused for a minute. "You realize she's controlling us from half a world away?"
"That's my girl," her Grandma said proudly.
Maxine just shook her head. A high-powered executive for an Alberta oil and gas company, her mother was everything she wasn't. She loved her but put the two of them in the same room and it was the proverbial oil and water. Or maybe chocolate and water. She got along better with Grandma Ellie which was just as well since Grandma helped raise her since the age of two.
"OK, but you can sit and watch the presentation. I'll tell Devon I brought you along because you're fascinated with the investing process and have heard good things about her fund."
"You'd better tell me the name again, then."
"Better Days Financial Fund."
Ellie just snorted. "Almost sounds like a vacation."
"Grandma," Maxine said in warning.
"OK, OK, I'll play along."
"Don't go over-board," Maxine said warningly. We're not the ones who invited Devon. We're the caterers. And she's going to think I don't trust her."
"You don't."
"But Devon doesn't need to know that," she said as the door-bell rang.
Surprisingly, Sam wasn't only on time, he was ten minutes early. "Worried I'd leave without you?" she said opening the door.
He just grinned and leaned in, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. "Wouldn't want to miss out on the action."
"Anyone else joins us and we'll have more people catering the party than actually in the party," she grumbled, but she had to admit she felt better knowing she had backup. Even if Devon had never been anything but nice to her.
The house was located in an ordinary, average, neighborhood at the end of a small cul-de-sac.
"You'd think there'd be a few more cars around if she's having a party."'
"It's only supposed to be about ten people. And some of them live at the house. The rest are family or friends."
Devon met them at the door. "It's so good to see you. Come in," she said leading the way into the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen. And I'll be set up in here," she said leading the way into the living room. "This is Rita. She's our hostess tonight."
A blonde woman in her mid-forties, she gave Maxine a smile. "It's very nice to meet you. I've heard so much about your, uh, chocolates." She smiled brightly.
"It's nice to meet you too," Maxine said, smiling sweetly and ignoring Rita's small stop, mid-sentence. She imagined there were going to be a lot of people with the same thoughts who weren't going to be nearly so polite about it.
"I brought Grandma Ellie as well. She's interested in your investment fund. That's not a problem is it?"
Devon's smile seemed a little forced but she said, "Of course not. The more the merrier. You will be joining us as well, won't you?"
"Just as we agreed," Maxine said. "I'll get the drinks going, set up the truffles and then I'll listen to the presentation with everyone else."
Although this presentation didn't seem to have quite as many bells and whistles as the others Devon had given, it seemed to follow the same formula. Drinks all around, some jokes and then a power point presentation with a few dull graphs split up by lots of beach scenes and shots of people having a good time.
"So, how do you pick your stocks? Throw darts at a wall," Ellie asked.
There were some nervous laughs.
"No," Devon put up her hand. "That's an excellent question. I research all the companies I invest in. Just to start with I read about ten papers daily. There are online newsletters I follow and if there's an industry I'm interested in I learn everything I can about it. Then when I actually make an investment in the company I review their financials and often I arrange to visit the factory or hotel, whatever it is the company is selling stocks for. The advantage of being an investor with bigger pockets than an average individual is that I can gain access to things the average investor can't."
"So we can sit back and enjoy margaritas by the pool," Kelly said.
"Exactly."
"And really, isn't that what we all want," Rita said, smiling graciously as she poured wine in her glass and the glasses of everyone around her. "I know I was never much good at math in school."
The truffles were looking in need of replacement. Maxine made a quick trip to the kitchen. Maybe it really was as easy as Devon made it sound. Maybe the secret was that there really wasn't a secret. Worse, maybe Heath really was guilty. She shivered slightly, goose-bumps running up her spine and down her arms suddenly. Where had that come from? She knew Heath was innocent. Even if it didn't look like it right now.
"Have you spotted anything out of place here?" she asked Sam quickly. He was busy reading a Clive Cussler book.
He grinned at her. "Not yet. But the truffles are good."
"You could look around a bit."
"For what?" Devon stood in the doorway looking at her suspiciously. "Haven't we had enough of this amateur sleuth business? Besides they've found the person responsible."
Maxine felt her heart stop for the barest space of time. "I know they have Heath in custody but I still don't believe he's guilty." She looked straight at Devon seeing the anger behind her eyes that she seemed to keep hidden more often than not. "Surely you don't want to see an innocent man sent to prison?"
"Of course not but I don't see who you could be investigating here." She leaned in closer. "Unless it's me you think guilty."
Maxine could feel Devon's breath on her face, feel the fury in those beautiful green eyes. "Of course not."
"Then don't you think you should leave investigating to the police? And stop spreading rumours and innuendo about me. Before you end up being hurt?" The last words were a whisper.
A whisper and a threat Maxine thought feeling a far too familiar tingle of fear. "Don't be ridiculous. I didn't mean that Sam should investigate here. I just meant if he's so worried about me he should investigate in general."
"Now that's something we can both agree on. Surely Maxine doesn't need her own personal bodyguard to give a presentation for me?"
Sam just grinned lazily. "It's easier just to stay here – and eat truffles," he said winking at Maxine. "By the time I drive home and back I won't have time to do anything anyway."
Devon shook her head. "Have it your way." She swept out of the kitchen.
Detective Patrick Shannon sat across from her in a practically deserted coffee shop, looking old beyond his years. Bags underneath his eyes spoke of a sleepless night. But they didn't hide the determined set of his jaw or the stubborn look he gave her. "I know you think he didn't do it."
"Well, at least you admit that," Maxine said, trying to remain calm. "I hope you're still investigating other possibilities." She herself had spent an unprecedented amount of time getting ready. Not because she was high maintenance normally, but she'd wanted to do everything possible to sway Patrick. To that end she had picked out a favorite pair of skinny jeans she knew he loved on her and a top that brought out the green in her eyes with her hair done just right.
"The case is solved Maxine," he said looking at her with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I know you don't like to believe ill of anyone but we've got everything with Heath. Motive, opportunity and the murder weapon. It doesn't get much stronger than that."
"And I still say he's not the one." She leaned across the table putting her hands over his. "I know it looks bad. But you have to trust me. Heath didn't do this."
He just shook his head. "That's what you want to believe."
"Heath told me, he told his mother. He wouldn't lie to his mother. Or me," she added hastily.
He just gave her a look of disbelief. "So that's it, he says he's innocent, let him go and see if we can find someone else? I hate to tell you this but our jails are filled with innocent people." He paused for a minute. "At least people who say they're innocent."
"Then I'm just going to have to prove it," she said getting up with a determined look on her face.
"No. You need to let this go." He stood up with her, blocking her way as he put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't want you hurt."
"Let go of me," she said angrily. "Besides if you're right and Heath is the killer I've got nothing to worry about!"
He stood back from her, removing his hands from her shoulders quickly. "You're right of course Miss Peters. But we would prefer it if you didn't involve yourself in police matters."
Miss Peters! That hurt. More than she cared to admit. "From what you say I'm not. You have everything you need to convict Heath. You're not looking any further." With a quick head shake she made her way past him and out the door, her lashes glistening with unshed tears.
With Heath out on bail today and she'd made arrangements to meet them back at Mrs. Rogers' apartment for a celebration. She'd hoped to have some good news from Detective Shannon as she now thought of him, her nerves still feeling jangled, her insides shaken.
It looked as if she'd have to settle for taking a chocolate torte.
And Grandma Ellie of course. Dressed in a bright blue tunic top with silver trimmings and leggings she was waiting at home and she wanted to know all about Maxine's meeting with Detective Shannon.
"There's nothing to tell," she said shaking her head. "He believes Heath did it. He says he had motive, opportunity and they found the murder weapon in his apartment." She shook her head. "He's not the man I thought he was."
"You're being unfair," Ellie said softly. "He's got a job to do. You have to admit the evidence against Heath is pretty good. It almost makes you wonder who'd want to set him up."
She looked at her Grandma Ellie in amazement. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"It doesn't matter who thought of it. The question is who?"
"Devon," Maxine said firmly.
Grandma Ellie didn't look convinced. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to say something but thought it better not to.
"You don't think she's innocent do you? She threatened me last night," Maxine said, her eyes flashing.
"I'm just wondering if that's not a little too easy. I've never read a murder mystery yet where it was the person you thought guilty, who actually was. Agatha Christie was a master at it."
"Which is exactly what I was saying about Heath," Maxine said. "But would he listen? Nooo." She surveyed the smart car. "Are you OK with holding the torte on your lap?"
"Anything for the cause," Grandma Ellie said cheerfully. She positioned the cake carefully as they took off. "Did you hear anything more about bridge financing?"
"The police have probably dropped it," she said. "They're so sure they have the right man." She gave a groan of frustration. "And Jim wasn't willing to do anything. He just said leave it to the police."
"You know, there's one other thing you might need to consider," Grandma Ellie said cautiously.
She glanced over at her grandma in surprise. "What?"
"Heath might be guilty." Grandma Ellie looked down at the cake quickly. "I know none of us want to believe that but the police DO have a strong case."
"No!" Maxine said, shaking her head in denial. "Absolutely no way. There's no way I'm going to believe that."
"Then let's hope we can find out who is guilty," Ellie said as Maxine backed into a parking space outside Helen Roger's apartment building.
The small apartment was crowded. Heath was in the middle of a group of people. A buzz of conversations filled with words of encouragement filled the air as Helen greeted them and added the chocolate torte to a table brimming with food and drink. It was a party, but a party with a dark undertone.
"We will find the person responsible for this," she said fiercely as Heath swept her up into a bear hug.
"I know you'll do everything you can," he said smiling at her, but his eyes were shadowed. "Just, can you promise me you'll keep an eye on my mom? In case…" his words trailed off.
"Heath," she said softly, feeling a twist in her gut. "You can't think that way. Of course I'll look out for your mom but you have to promise me you'll stay strong. You're innocent."
He looked at her. "You know that and I know that. I'm pretty sure the cops don't agree." He shook his head in disbelief. "Even I don't know how the murder weapon ended up in my apartment."
"We think you were framed," she said excitedly and noticed people were stopping their talk to listen to the conversation. "Well, I do," she said defiantly.
"Mm. It's nice to have the vote of confidence but without anything to prove otherwise…" His shoulders slumped slightly in a gesture of defeat while his eyes showed a sad desperation.
"Well, of course we'll find the proof," his mother said cheerfully. "Look at all the people you've got on your side."
But looking around the small room, Maxine, couldn't help hoping he had a few more. It made her all the more determined to track down the real killer. She saw two men in their mid-twenties who looked a lot like Heath and assumed they were his brothers. She knew his mother had talked about one son flying in last night, she couldn't help wondering about the other brother. He hadn't talked about his family often. Others looked older, more in the age range of his mother. Ally and Marcus were here as were some other friends she assumed were from the cooking school he'd gone to.
But with the number of bodies mounting the police wanted to solve this case. Particularly because the people involved were high profile. She did too. She just didn't want Heath convicted and thrown in jail. In the police's rush to justice, or at least the appearance of justice, they might not look too closely at a case that seemed to solve itself.
From the times she'd stopped by Heath's apartment she was all too aware security wasn't that tight. For a person bent on doing something as underhanded as planting a murder weapon it likely wouldn't be difficult. But most of the people suspected would look out of place in his building. And that gave her an idea.
Grandma Ellie groaned. "I know you want to help but surely the police would've checked with the neighbours? Honey, you have to let this go."
"I'm going to show pictures of everyone at the first party we suspect though." The police wouldn't have done that."
"Likely because it violates a law. I'm not sure which one but I'm pretty sure it does."
"I don't care," Maxine said defiantly. "It's a start."
She spent the evening going through literally hundreds of photos she and her staff had taken at the museum parties. She came up with a rogues' gallery which consisted of:
Rick Dodd – who'd been seen arguing with Ron Vandemeer shortly before his death. He'd been involved with a land deal with Ron which seemed to be having problems, there were questions about a bridging scheme with Devon.
Tracey Vandemeer – she seemed upset about her husband's death but she still gained a lot too. And while they'd suspected Ron and Kathleen of having an affair they'd stopped looking for any signs Tracey had had an affair.
David Hunter – he'd been at the first party and he'd known his wife was going to the second. Wendy had said he hadn't been overly upset at her loss. Had he taken the opportunity when it presented itself or was he somehow tied into Ron's death as well?
Tanya Schmidt – friend and model. Tipsy at the party, no motive but she definitely knew all the players.
Kathleen O'Reilly – working with Ron Vandemeer and Rick Dodd. Also worked in the Mayor and City Planning office. Was it more than a mentor/working relationship and did she know something worth killing for?
Devon and David Matthews – he's a cardiac surgeon giving her access to drugs. She's an investment advisor who seems too good to be true and that was before she threatened Maxine. Is she involved in an investment scam, possibly with Rick Dodd?
Wendy and Bill Carr – If an acid tongue could kill she'd definitely be guilty. But Rae-Ann was her best friend and it was hard to see what she had to gain. She'd be more likely to off Tanya for flirting with her husband. And Bill, as far as she knew, had nothing to gain or lose in any of the deaths.
Nikki Benshaw – the local queen of gossip was definitely finding lots to write about but that wasn't really a reason to kill. Particularly since Tracey was her sister. Ditto the photographer, Will Reimer.
She groaned in frustration. There had to be something. Someone. Even if she didn't see it now she was hoping when she showed the pictures around to Heath's neighbours they'd recognize someone.
But when she went over the next morning to canvas the neighbours it wasn't as easy as she'd expected. Most weren't home. The ones that were didn't show much inclination to open the door and let her in for a nice cozy chat and cup of tea. If they recognized her at all they tended to regard her with open suspicion which they didn't feel much need to hide.
"You're that caterer aren't you?" his neighbour across the hall said, regarding her suspiciously through the guard chain on her door.
"Yes, I am," she'd said, relieved to talk to someone. "And I'm a good friend of Heath's. I want to help him."
"Humph," the woman snorted. "Seems to me he wouldn't be in need of help if he'd stayed away from you."
"Surely you're not blaming me for what's happened," she said incensed as the door closed to a crack. "I'd never do anything to hurt Heath," she said, impassioned. "I need your help."
"For what," the woman said, opening the door a crack further.
"Just look at the pictures I have," she said desperately. "Tell me if you've seen anyone around Heath's apartment lately."
"Suppose I could do that," the woman said. "Don't know what good it's going to do."
"I'm not sure either," she said. "But I'm pretty sure if we don't do anything Heath is going to be in jail for a long time to come."
"OK, OK," the woman said grudgingly. "Pass the pictures in. He's a good kid. Helped me with my groceries a few times. Never said a bad word about anyone, always had a smile for you."
For a moment Maxine wanted to hold onto the pictures, refuse to let the woman take them without letting her in. But the truth was she could easily make other copies. She handed them over and waited impatiently as the woman went through them slowly, one by one.
"I can't be sure," she said slowly. "Might have seen the one woman once or twice," she said, pointing at the picture of Devon.
Maxine felt her heart speed up as she tried to maintain an air of calm she didn't feel. "Can you remember when?"
"No time recently," the woman said, shaking her head. She continued to look through the pictures. "And I've definitely seen her here," she said, pointing at Kathleen O'Reilly's picture. "Not for the last week or two though," she said, shaking her head.
Not surprising considering she was dead Maxine thought feeling a sense of disappointment and frustration. "Well, thank you for your help."
"And her," she said pointing at Carly Halvert, standing beside Tracey and Wendy in one pic.
"You mean her," she said pointing to Tracey. "Or her," she said pointing to Wendy.
"I mean her," the woman said with certainty. "She was here three days ago."
Maxine frowned, puzzled. "Maybe she knows someone in the building," she said thinking aloud.
"Maybe Heath," the woman said. "I'm sure I've seen her coming out of his place."
Maxine frowned. "You're sure it was her, not one of the others?"
"I'd swear on the bible," she said.
"OK," Maxine said. "I'm sure there's an explanation." But maybe it would make the police look more closely. "Would you be willing to talk to the police?"
"I've got nothing to hide," the woman said, drawing herself up. "Names Sharon Miller. Give me a minute and I'll write my phone number down for you."
"No need," Maxine said, pulling out her phone. "I'll just put it down here."
She listened as Sharon repeated her phone number.
Maybe she'd drop in to Carly's boutique on the way back. She was pretty sure there was a good explanation for her visit. Perhaps he'd bought a dress for his mom and she was delivering it? His mother didn't look like the type to wear dresses from upscale boutiques although she was pretty sure Heath would buy one for her if he thought it was important to her.
She managed to talk to the grounds keeper as well. Not that it turned up anything useful. So far she'd hit a lot of dead-ends she thought in frustration, as she got in her little red smart car. Talk about going nowhere fast.