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Authors: Carolyn Haines

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy

Bone Appétit (31 page)

BOOK: Bone Appétit
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“Opportunity and the child. If it’s the child Anna wants, this is the perfect chance to get her.” I could see he wasn’t convinced, and I didn’t blame him. Tinkie and I had woven a lot of stray threads into a tapestry that vindicated our client. “You have to take this seriously.”

“One thing I promise. Anna Lock or Anna Blackledge won’t come near any contestants or their desserts tonight.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Now, since Mrs. Richmond here is a shutterbug for the papers, do you have any photos that show Anna in attendance at the pageant events?”

“I never noticed her, but isn’t that the point?” Tinkie asked. “I mean, if she were intent on murdering the girls, she’d be subtle.”

“Except for Brook, none of the girls were killed at an event. The killer works behind the scenes,” I said.

“That’s true,” Jansen said. “Janet Menton was poisoned in pastries and Babs Lafitte was in a parking lot. We found the cigarette butt with traces of the poison.”

“This last event is a dessert competition,” Tinkie said. “The contestants will be allowed into the Viking kitchen at two o’clock. Dessert will be served at a final gathering tonight at seven. Karrie Kompton may be the next victim. Mrs. Phelps asked me to help watch over the final event. I told her I would.”

“It’s going to be a long day,” Jansen said.

23

The deputy guarding Hedy’s hotel door was young, handsome, and smitten with my client. When I said her name, his face lit up.

“Go get some coffee,” I told him. “I’ll be with Hedy until you return.”

“The chief told me not to leave this post.”

“Up to you.” I shrugged. “It’s in Hedy’s best interest to have someone monitor her every move. Seriously, she’s innocent, and her best defense, if anything else happens, will be your alibi. I have no intention of allowing her to leave this room, so if you need a bathroom break or coffee, I’ll stay with her until you return.”

Apparently I was unconvincing. He called Jansen and got his boss’s okay before he nodded his thanks and trotted down the hall for a ten-minute break. Jansen might play
favorites with the rich and powerful, but he also inspired loyalty in his men.

I tapped on the door and Hedy opened it. “Where’s Eddie?”

“Coffee.” My task was to tell Hedy about Anna Blackledge without sending her into a panic. Oscar had found the senior Wellingtons and Vivian at the Peabody Hotel, and hotel security was watching over them. For the moment, Vivian was safe.

“Eddie’s a good guy,” she said.

In contrast to the last time I saw her room, it was neat and orderly—except for the cooking supplies piled on the bed. I took note of the ingredients. “What are you baking for this evening?”

“A chocolate Dobostorta.”

“Which is?” Tinkie and I never made it to the dessert phase of our cooking lessons, and I had a moment of regret. I loved desserts. Especially chocolate. To be able to build something chocolate and dense and rich—that might have been worth learning.

“A six-layer sponge cake invented by and named for a Hungarian baker, Jozsef C. Dobos. It’s rich and moist and one of the best chocolate cakes I’ve ever tasted. For all its elegance, it’s plain. I’m hoping the other contestants create ornate desserts and my Dobostorta will stand out.”

“A fine strategy.” The chocolate she intended to use was a brand I’d never heard of.

“Imported,” she said. “Holland. The art of this cake is in the chocolate. I want it to be dark and lush.”

Just to be on the safe side I checked to be sure no one had tampered with the chocolate package. It was sealed.

“So eggs, milk, flour—all provided at the cooking school?” Unless Evangeline Phelps stood guard over the larders, those ingredients were vulnerable.

Hedy nodded. “I turned in my ingredient list and they’ll have everything there, except for specialty items, which must be brought into the school sealed.” She waved at supplies on the bed. “I’m going over at two and start cooking. I want the cake to cool and chill in the refrigerator. It’s better that way.”

She slumped down on the bed. “Actually, I just want this to be over. I don’t even care about winning anymore. The title won’t make a difference. Marcus will never allow me to see Vivian, much less gain partial custody of her. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should walk away and let her have the privileged life he can give her.”

I almost gave her the “buck up” speech, but instead I sat down beside her. Tinkie was the gentle, nurturing partner; I was the kick-ass and complain side of the equation. But Hedy didn’t need anyone to fuss at her. I suspected she did a better than average job of doing that to herself.

“You can’t give up on Vivian,” I said. “Samuel told me a little about your background, Hedy. You can’t see this as a repetition of what your mother went through.”

She didn’t bother to deny it. “Maybe we are cursed. Maybe there’s something to the Marie Laveau thing that Marcus accuses me of. He would do anything to keep me away from my baby girl.”

“It may not be Marcus. At least not totally.” Now was the moment to tell her the hard news. “Hedy, this is going to upset you, but you need to know. Anna Lock, the nanny taking care of Vivian, is really Anna Blackledge, your aunt.”

Her head tilted slightly as if the words were rolling around in her head. “My aunt? That’s crazy.”

“Perhaps, but it’s true nonetheless.”

“My father’s sister is a nanny for the Wellingtons? Why? The Blackledge family has tons of money.”

I swallowed. “To keep Vivian away from you.” I felt like
I’d punched her a few times with a nail gun. I doubt it would have hurt her worse. I gave her the last of it. “It’s possible she’s influencing Marcus to keep Vivian from you.”

“Why would she do such a thing? I’ve never done anything to her.” Instead of getting angry, she was hurt. “I don’t even know her.”

“I don’t have answers, Hedy, but I intend to find them. Vivian is with her grandparents in Memphis. Anna isn’t with them. Someone Tinkie knows is watching over Vivian to be sure she’s safe. I’ll find Anna and see what she has to say.”

“My aunt wants to take the thing I love most away from me. For what? For revenge? To get even with me because my father died?”

I could only shake my head.

“This is sick.” She staggered as if her legs were failing. “I don’t understand a person who would do such a thing.”

“The question is, is she vengeful enough to poison three young women just to frame you?”

“I can grasp Marcus doing something to have his own way. I know him, and I know how ruthless his family can be. But Anna Blackledge is my blood. She’s Vivian’s great-aunt. I can’t . . .” She wiped away her tears. “If this is true, Anna is evil.”

“I agree.” I spoke calmly, hoping to settle her down.

“The Saulnier family is cursed. My mother warned me. She told me if I pursued custody of Vivian, terrible things would happen. Those girls are dead because of me.”

This had to stop. “You don’t truly believe your mother serves Marie Laveau or that she’d sacrifice you to that kind of life.” I was stern.

She thought about it. “The mother I have now isn’t the woman who gave birth to me.”

“What do you mean?” The confession creeped me out, just a little.

“When my father was alive, Mom was always laughing. She planned picnics and adventures. She and Dad loved those swamps. They knew the dangers with the snakes and alligators, but there was a wealth of healing plants and herbs there. My mother was highly regarded in the community as a healer. People came from as far away as Baton Rouge. And my dad, well, his designs were so different, so earth-friendly. Several movie stars hired him to design their homes. They had a wonderful life, and I can remember feeling wrapped in their love. That’s what I want for Vivian. To feel that love.”

Her voice faded and she stared down at her hands. The energy seeped from her leaving dismay.

“And then your father went into the swamp one day and . . .”

“And never came back,” she whispered. “My mother was wild with worry. I was very young. She put me in our second boat, and we went looking for him. We hunted for a long time until she went back and called for help to search. Of course, delaying while we hunted for him alone went against my mother. Folks said she wanted Dad to die, that she’d killed him and put his body in the swamp for the alligators to eat.”

That was an image no child should have in her head. “But you knew it wasn’t true.”

“And Mom did, too. My parents loved each other. When the search and rescue found his boat and declared Dad dead, it was the end of my mom. She started to believe those crazy things she heard—that she’d killed him. She’d taken him from a safe, cultured environment and pulled him deep into the dangerous swamp. Folks believed she served the darkness and said Dad was some kind of sacrifice. From the first grade at school, the other kids were afraid of me. I was that Saulnier girl, daughter of a hoodoo woman, daughter of a
murderess. The other kids wouldn’t play with me, except for Samuel.”

“He’s a good friend.”

“Yes, he is. Daddy’s family, the Blackledges, tried to get custody of me, but somehow Mom managed to hold them off. Fighting for me kept her from killing herself. She said Dad had been unhappy as a child and he wouldn’t want the same fate for me. So she fought. She fought hard. And ultimately we stayed in the swamps by ourselves. I went to school, but almost no one talked to me. I made good grades, did the work, and dreamed about getting out of that place and going somewhere built on solid ground with people who laughed and had fun.”

She took a deep breath, her blue eyes wide and honest. “I grew ashamed of my mother and the way she behaved. I only wanted to be normal.”

The fantasy of normalcy wasn’t such a huge dream. By most standards it was modest. “You were working on your college degree. You were finding those things.”

“I made some friends who didn’t know or care about my childhood. My professors said I was smart and talented. I had scholarships. I was about to climb out of that place.”

“And then you got pregnant.” The story was as old as humanity.

“I never realized how lonely I’d been until I found out I was pregnant. I was consumed with love for my child. My entire world shifted focus, just in that instant. And when Vivian was born, Sarah Booth, there is nothing like that feeling. Nothing in the world.”

Now it was my turn to pull back from the conversation. I’d never held my child, but I felt the loss nonetheless. I went to the window while I sought composure. “You have every right to share custody of your daughter.”

“I’ve begun to question what’s right for Vivian,” she admitted. “I don’t want her growing up ashamed of me or my family, suffering the whispers and innuendos.”

“You don’t have to stay in the swamps, Hedy, but if you want to earn a living for your child, you need a better plan than vying for a pageant title.”

“I know that. But why should I worry about any of this when I’m likely going to prison for murder.”

She sounded so hopeless. “You haven’t even been charged and I don’t think you will be. Jansen is smart. He’ll follow the evidence, and it doesn’t lead to you.” I was surprised that she was ready to throw in the towel.

“I’m not a fool, Sarah Booth. Chief Jansen has delayed doing anything because he’s under pressure from the mayor and town not to destroy the pageant. When it’s over, Karrie will be crowned, and I’ll be taken away in cuffs.”

“It won’t play out that way. Have some faith in me and Tinkie.” She’d raised an interesting point. “So you think Karrie is the top dog?”

“I hear she aced the ‘Taste and Copy.’ ” Hedy joined me at the window. Her room also gave a view of the cooking school across the street. “She got every component exactly right. Almost as if—”

“Almost as if someone fed her the ingredients?” I finished.

“Exactly.” Hedy shrugged. “But what does it matter? Maybe the true test of any competition is who is willing to do whatever is necessary. Based on business models these days, Karrie has exactly what it takes to be a winner. She’s ruthless, greedy, willing to stomp anyone in her path. Maybe those are the qualities necessary to be the best.”

“Not true. Integrity, honesty, and fairness matter. Even when it seems they don’t.”

“That hasn’t been my experience.” She gathered up her recipe purchases and put them in a reusable shopping bag. “I should start baking.”

“I don’t think the cooking school is open until two.”

“Then why is Karrie Kompton going inside?”

I glanced back out the window and caught Karrie’s backside disappearing into the building. “That’s not right,” I said.

“And you were just giving me the speech on honesty and integrity. Life isn’t fair, Sarah Booth. No matter how much we wish it were.”

Tinkie was at the cooking school, and I needed to back her should Karrie break bad. “Don’t give up, Hedy. You aren’t a quitter,” I reminded her as I opened the door.

Eddie was back at his post, a half-finished coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. “Keep her safe,” I told him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He was so eager to fulfill his job I felt a twinge of pity for him. Hedy was a sweet and basically kind woman, but with her plate overflowing, she might not notice what an admirer she had in the young cop.

As soon as I cleared Eddie’s sight, I took off at a run. Karrie’s presence at the cooking school could be innocent. Or not. But Tinkie was there, and Tammy’s haunting vision motivated me to keep an eye on my partner.

The day had grown hot and humid when I crossed the street and hurried to the cooking school. Mrs. Phelps was in the lobby and unlocked the door. “Sarah Booth, what can I do for you?”

“I saw Karrie Kompton come in.” I glanced behind her. “Where’s Tinkie?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Where is Mrs. Richmond?” Evangeline Phelps was a tad hostile. “She promised to help me but she hasn’t shown up. Karrie was gracious enough to run an errand for me because I can’t leave my post here. Since Mrs. Richmond didn’t show up, there was no one else to help me.”

“Tinkie didn’t show up here? She left half an hour ago to come over.”

My panic finally touched Evangeline. “Where could she be?”

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