Authors: Isis Crawford

A Catered St. Patrick's Day (30 page)

BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day

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“He was going to kill me,” Anne managed to croak out once Sean had removed the gag. “Liza ...” she stopped talking. Tears ran down her cheeks.

“I know.” Sean patted her on the shoulder. “I know.”

“Where’s Pat?” Anne asked.

“He’s dead,” Sean said as he began to take the duct tape off. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“I’m not,” Anne said.

Chapter 33

I
t was a week later and Libby, Bernie, Marvin, Brandon, and Sean were sitting in the Simmonses’ flat having a snack. In honor of the season, Libby had wanted to make cucumber, watercress, and radish sandwiches on crustless white bread, crumpets with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and brew up some Darjeeling tea. But since everyone had wanted coffee, apple crumb cake, and cinnamon toast, Libby had gone along with that instead.

“I still don’t believe that you did what you did,” Brandon said to Sean after he’d taken a sip of coffee.

Sean swallowed the piece of cinnamon toast he’d been eating before replying, once again marveling as he did that such simple ingredients could yield such a pleasant result.

“You mean kill Dwyer, Brandon?”

“Yeah. Have you ever killed anyone else?”

“Nope. This is the first time. I’ve wounded a number of people, but I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Do you feel bad, Mr. Simmons?” Marvin asked.

“You know,” Sean told him. “I thought I would. But I don’t. I’m sleeping just fine at night.”

“Which is more than I can say for me,” Libby said.

She, Bernie, Marvin, and Brandon had walked into Dwyer’s house a couple of minutes before the police had arrived and the images of Dwyer she’d seen had stayed with her. That could have been her dad on the floor.

“If I’d just opened the envelope Orion had given me,” she began.

“Or I’d answered my phone,” Brandon continued.

“Or you hadn’t taken my car, Mr. Simmons,” Marvin said.

Sean put his coffee cup down and glared at Marvin. “First of all, I didn’t take your car. You let me borrow your car. Secondly, there was nothing wrong with my driving, and thirdly, if I hadn’t gotten there when I did, Anne Dwyer would have been dead.”

“And you could have been dead too,” Libby pointed out. “Dwyer could have killed you instead of the other way around.”

“I don’t think so,” Sean replied as he put a little more cream in his coffee.

“How do you get that?” Libby challenged.

Sean took a sip of coffee and put the mug down before replying. “Because I think Dwyer wanted me to kill him.”

“What?” Bernie said.

Sean lifted a finger. “Stay with me, here. I’ve been thinking about what happened a lot and I’ve come to the conclusion that Dwyer could have killed me at any number of points if he wanted to. But he didn’t. After all, he knew I had a sword cane. He knew what I was going to have to do when I saw Anne’s keys on the table. He’s faster than I am. He’s stronger than I am. So he could have either run away or attacked me.

“Or for that matter not let me in at all. But he did none of those things. He basically forced me to kill him. He committed suicide by cop, or to be precise, suicide by ex-cop. Maybe he had a sudden attack of conscience. Or maybe he didn’t want to die in jail. He had to know the game was up. He had to know you guys would find me.”

Everyone was silent for a moment while they thought about what Sean had said. Then Marvin spoke.

“Fine,” he said as he cut himself a slice of apple crumb cake. “I understand about Sweeney,” Marvin continued. “Dwyer was angry at him for losing all that mone—”

“Never mind that he could have made more,” Bernie interjected. “He has all of those McDonald’s.”

“He was losing them,” Sean told her.

“Losing them?” Bernie replied. “How could he be losing them?”

Sean shrugged. “He used them as collateral for loans he took out to give to Sweeney.”

“So he really was going broke,” Libby said.

“Evidently,” Sean answered. He turned to Marvin. “As you were saying?”

“I was just wondering what Dwyer was going to do with Anne.”

“Shoot her, then roll her up in the rug and bury her and the gun in the backyard,” Sean said promptly. “And you know what? It would have worked.”

“A nice homey touch,” Marvin noted. “Didn’t Dwyer think that people would notice that his wife wasn’t there?”

“No,” Sean told him. “Dwyer’s neighbors are snowbirds. They won’t be back until the middle of April. I’m guessing Dwyer was going to tell them that he and his wife had separated and she’d moved to spend time with her brother in Arizona.”

“Yeah. But what was going to happen when no one could get her on the phone?” Brandon demanded.

Sean shrugged. “According to Clyde, Anne didn’t have many friends left. Most of her family was dead, except for the brother who’s in a nursing home with dementia. And all of her friends were gone. They’d either moved away or died. It could have worked. At least for a while.”

“That’s so sad,” Bernie said.

“It is,” Sean agreed, thinking about how lucky he was to have people around him that he loved and who loved him.

“And it could be years before they found her body,” Brandon observed.

“Untrue,” Marvin said, speaking from a professional point of view. “It’s harder than you think to dig a six-foot grave around here. After three feet everything turns into clay.”

“And just think what would happen if someone bought Dwyer’s house and decided to remodel the backyard,” Libby said, shuddering at the thought.

“I don’t think he was planning to sell,” Bernie said. “At least I wouldn’t. I think that in this case it’s a matter of keeping your friends close and your corpses closer.”

“Anne is selling,” Libby noted. “She listed the property with Bree as soon as she got out of the hospital.”

“And who could blame her,” Bernie said. “I certainly would if I were her.”

“Me too,” Duncan said as he came into the room. He pointed to his ankle. “No bracelet.”

“Free at last,” Libby said.

Duncan grinned. “I just wanted to thank ted to tyou guys again before I take off. I know I said it already, but I’m saying it one more time. Thanks. Without you, I’d probably be in jail for life.”

“You probably would,” Bernie agreed.

“Where are you going?” Brandon asked.

“Down to the Culinary Institute. I figure it’s time I got out of finance and this is always something I’ve wanted to do.”

“I didn’t know that,” Bernie said.

“I
t’s true,” Duncan replied. “I did prep out at the Red Dog in Nantucket for two summers. I really liked it, but my mom was totally down on the whole culinary thing. She said you had to put in too much time for too little money.”

“I think she has a point,” Libby said. “It’s a lot of hard work.”

Duncan nodded. “I know, but I’m looking forward to it. Maybe I can intern with you guys at some point, if you could use an extra hand and you can forgive me for all the nasty things I said to you.”

“We can always use an extra hand,” Libby said. “Pull up a chair and sit down.” And she leaned over, cut a slice of apple crumb cake, put it on a plate, and handed it to him.

“Delicious,” Duncan said after he’d taken a bite.

Libby and Bernie both beamed.

“It’s good to be back in the kitchen,” Libby said.

Bernie nodded. “Always.” She turned to her dad. “You know, I think I liked it better when I knew where to find you.”

“I promise that you still will,” Sean told her. And he meant it.

Recipes

The following recipes are Irish in spirit if not in fact. I’ve included one because the icing is green, another because it is an unusual dessert sauce made with Irish beer (although you can use any beer you want), and the last recipe because it speaks of spring.

Sarah Saulson’s Grasshopper Squares

A sure hit with the kids.

Cream ½ cup butter, ½ cup sugar together. Add 4 eggs, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon vanilla, 1 cup flour, and 16 ounces Hershey’s chocolate syrup in order given. Spread in buttered 13-by-9-inch pan, bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Cool completely.

Cream ½ cup butter, 2 cups confectioner’s sugar. Add 4 tablespoons crème de mint (or one teaspoon peppermint extract). Add green food coloring and spread on top of brownies. Chill or freeze a short while.

Top with 6 tablespoons butter melted with 1 cup chocolate chips and spread on top. Cut into small squares and serve.

Caramel Beer Sauce

I know the following recipe sounds weird, but it tastes delicious and deserves a place in your repertoire. This sauce goes well over ice cream, pound cake, or sautéed fruit such as apples, bananas, and peaches. I don’t know where the recipe comes from, but I’ve been using it for many years now and would like to thank the person who gave it to me.

1 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
¼ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 cup of your favorite dark beer
2 tablespoons butter

In a medium saucepan mix together brown sugar, cornstarch, salt. Whisk in vanilla, beer, add butter. Cook over medium high heat until the mixture thickens.

To serve, place warm fruit and/or a scoop of ice cream in a bowl, and pour warm caramel beer sauce over top. Serve immediately.

Florence’s Lemon Cake

This is the recipe my mom used to make around this time of year. In her words, “This is one of the best cakes I’ve ever made. It is delicious, easy
to make, and keeps for weeks.” What better recommendation can you have?

3 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ pound butter
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
1 cup milk
finely grated peel of two lemons
¾ cup confectioner’s sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch tube pan and dust it with unflavored bread crumbs.

Sift flour, baking powder, and salt together and set aside. Cream butter and sugar, add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Then add alternately dry ingredients and milk, starting with dry ingredients. Beat until smooth. Stir in lemon rind. Put in pan and bake for an hour or until cake springs back.

Let cake stand in the pan for a few minutes, then invert it to get it out of pan; invert once more onto a dish. Make glaze out of

cup lemon juice and ¾ cup confectioner’s sugar. (Do not heat. Just mix the two ingredients together.) Brush on the top and sides of the cake while it is still hot.

Longely is an imaginary community, as are all its inhabitants. Any resemblance to people either living or dead is pure coincidence.

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011937866

ISBN: 978-0-7582-7821-0

BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day

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