Read Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The Online

Authors: Krista Davis

Tags: #Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #General, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Cooks, #Large Type Books, #Cookery, #Mystery, #Divorced Women, #Cooking, #Divorced Women - Crimes Against, #Weddings, #Crimes Against, #Sisters

Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The (10 page)

BOOK: Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The

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Uncle Stan towered over Craig’s father. His wavy black hair fell into a precision cut, highlighting aristocratic features. If they were brothers, the only resemblance I could see was the long face. Stan’s dark eyes hinted at Italian ancestry.

But Stan didn’t hesitate to slap Craig on the back and embrace him. I couldn’t tell if Craig was glad to see them or not.

Craig’s father laughed unpleasantly, sort of a “heh, heh” donkey bray. “And best of all, look who else came—your cousin Darby.”

Craig turned quickly and Darby pointed at him. “You didn’t expect to see me, didja?” Punching him in a playful way, she said, “Hello, cuz.”

Hannah took over, a good thing since Craig seemed to be at a loss. She called Mom and Dad, and I focused on the food.

The chicken would be ready shortly, as would the ribs. I returned to the kitchen for the potatoes I had put in the oven and platters on which to serve the meats, and found Natasha talking with Mordecai and Wanda in my kitchen.

“Faye would have liked what you’ve done with your kitchen, Natasha,” said Mordecai.

Her
kitchen? What had Natasha told him? She’d never said one nice word about
my
kitchen.

Natasha laid a hand on Mordecai’s arm, which still held little Emmaline. “I’m afraid you’re confused. This isn’t my house. Goodness, no. My kitchen is tastefully refined.”

Wanda edged toward Mordecai. “You knew Faye? Do you feel it? The spirit in the kitchen?”

Mordecai leaned away from her. “I am a professor, highly educated and well traveled. I can assure you, madam, that there is no such thing as a spirit.”

“Mother doesn’t believe in them either, do you, Mother? She likes to joke about them, though.”

Mordecai snorted. “Such nonsense. Faye held séances, but I refused to take part in that claptrap. I don’t associate with people who believe such ludicrous things.”

A witchy expression developed on Wanda’s face, and Natasha abruptly changed the subject. “What’s for dinner, Sophie? Can I do anything to help?”

I pulled a pan of steaming garlic and thyme roasted potatoes from the oven. “That’s the wonderful thing about barbecue, it almost takes care of itself.”

Natasha sniffed the air. “Are you grilling salmon on a cedar plank? That’s one of my favorites.”

“Pulled pork, chicken, and ribs.”

“Oh, that kind of barbecue. I don’t eat that kind of food.”

I brushed off her snooty attitude. “Would you hand me the bowl in the cabinet above the pantry?” If she was going to insult my kitchen and my barbecue, the least she could do was hand me a bowl that I was too short to reach.

Natasha swung the cabinet door open, and a paper fluttered to Mordecai’s feet. Wanda picked it up while Natasha handed me the large bowl.

“Wouldja look at this,” Wanda said smugly.

Mordecai’s face flushed paprika red. “You set me up.”

I leaned over to see what had upset him. Wanda held a photograph of Faye and a much younger Mordecai seated at Faye’s dining room table with a woman in flowing robes. All of them held hands.

“Sophie couldn’t have known we would talk about this.” Wanda flapped the photograph under Mordecai’s nose. “This is a message from Faye!”

“Mother! Don’t be silly.” Natasha rushed them out the door.

After a flurry of trips inside, the buffet was ready and my hungry relatives led the way, helping themselves. In the Bauer family, no one ever had to be coaxed to take a plate and eat.

I relaxed with a martini while a parade of guests loaded plates and sat down to dinner.

Craig’s father, Robert, and his Uncle Stan zeroed in on Wanda like bees on honey. Wanda enjoyed the attention, flirting like a young girl. Hannah gabbed with Phoebe and another of her bridesmaids while Craig watched his father, showing as much enthusiasm as a Civil War statue. I didn’t know much about his family and wondered whether he was in shock, upset, or just being his usual poker-faced self.

Nina showed up with the dachshund Hermione, who lifted her long nose and sniffed the air, no doubt glad she’d come to the barbecue in spite of all the people to fear. Daisy trotted over and after the requisite snuffling one another in greeting, they raced off toward the back of the walled garden. Poor Emmaline wasn’t permitted to play with the other dogs. She squirmed on Professor Mordecai’s lap, but he clearly didn’t want to let her go.

“Which one is Craig’s father?” asked Nina.

“The short one.”

“They don’t look a thing alike. He still has a decent head of hair.” She squinted and lowered her voice. “Or is that a bad toupee?”

“I’m afraid it might be the latter.”

“Why is it,” she asked, “that men don’t understand bald is sexy? The uncle is rather elegant, though, don’t you think?”

Nina wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Uncle Stan was attracting admiring glances from a number of women.

I filled a plate and sat down where I could keep an eye on Craig. Mars slid into the chair next to me.

I had no idea where Tucker had gone, but he timed his reappearance perfectly. He waltzed in and stopped abruptly. Throwing his hands out dramatically, he cried, “Greetings, all!”

Hannah choked on iced tea, and I admit that I felt a twinge of guilt for bringing Tucker into her life again. He closed in on her right away. “My darling little wife . . .”

For the first time ever, I saw emotion on Craig’s face. Clearly horrified, he bent his head toward Hannah, no doubt awaiting an explanation.

Even more interesting than Hannah and Craig, though, was Uncle Stan, who watched Tucker like a hawk. Despite Hannah’s protests, Tucker found a chair and insisted on wedging it in next to her. Hannah wore a pained expression, but Tucker acted exactly as I’d hoped, familiarly taking her fork and sampling her dinner.

At the next table over and directly in my line of sight, Natasha flirted shamelessly with Kevin. “What is it with that guy?” asked Mars. “He’s grotesquely muscular and a dreadful bore, yet Natasha and her mother act like they think their prince has come.” I should have hidden my amusement, but I had never seen Mars, Mr. Everybody Loves Me, jealous of another man. I checked out Kevin again. He certainly wasn’t my type.

Humphrey, seated with my parents, was sneaking glances at me. I flushed, certain my mother had planted ideas in his head. Darn Natasha for ruining my date with Wolf.

Thankfully, Robert pinged his fork against his glass. When he had our attention, he raised the glass and said, “To our children, may they live long and prosper.
Bacio
,
bacio
!”

Craig leaned toward Hannah. “He wants us to kiss.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but Craig seemed wary of his dad. I wished I knew more about what had driven them apart in the first place.

Mars whispered, “Wasn’t that toast from
Star Trek
?”

I elbowed him in the ribs as Craig and Hannah kissed to applause. Tucker even whistled. Not exactly the jealous suitor I had in mind.

But the happy moment came to an abrupt halt when Stan asked, “Where is the ring? Why doesn’t she have a ring?”

“It’s bad luck not to have an engagement ring. I brought you up better than that.” Robert cuffed Craig’s head.

“She has one.” Craig lifted Hannah’s hand. “Where is it?”

Hannah gulped. “I took it off earlier and with all that happened, I guess I just forgot to put it back on.” She smiled at Robert and Stan. “It’s the most beautiful ring. He surprised me with it—”

“I bought it specially for Hannah,” interrupted Craig.

Wanda set her glass on the table. “You have to find it. Losing your ring means you will lose your fiancé.”

A hush fell over us.

Darby piped up. “I’m sure she’ll find it. I know I can’t wait to see it.”

I was relieved that Darby broke the silence. A slow chatter started again. “The toast you made, wasn’t that Italian?” I asked.

“You have a good ear.” Robert dug into his potatoes.

“Beacham sounds so English,” I mused aloud. I must have said something insulting because Craig’s entire family focused on me and not in a happy way.

“It was Piccione in the old country, but at Ellis Island they had different ideas and made us Beachams.” Uncle Stan scowled as he explained. I gathered it was still a source of irritation for them and was sorry I’d mentioned it.

On the whole, everyone except Craig appeared to be enjoying themselves. Craig seemed subdued, not unusual given what he’d been through and especially now that Wanda had predicted his demise. I suspected his relatives weren’t yet aware of Emily’s death but figured it wasn’t my place to tell them. I didn’t want to be the one who ruined the festive atmosphere, and I barely knew any of them anyway.

Uncle Stan stood to refill his plate and squeezed Craig’s shoulder with affection. “In keeping with tradition, Robert and I will pick up the tab for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.”

Craig protested, but Stan interrupted him. “It’s the least I can do for the nephew who followed in my footsteps.”

Darby had lifted her drink to her mouth and froze as if waiting for something terrible to happen.

Wanda gushed, “You’re a doctor?”

Robert looked like he’d heard this one too many times.

“Just like Craig,” said Stan. “I feel quite confident in saying that if it weren’t for me, Craig would not be a doctor today.”

Wanda rose so abruptly that she nearly fell face-first onto the table. She braced herself, patted hair so thoroughly shellacked that a tornado wouldn’t have moved it, and took her plate to the buffet table.

I almost laughed aloud at her hurry to meet Stan there.

Everyone appeared to be getting along. As we expected, more friends of Hannah and Craig arrived as we ate. People milled around the table laden with food, some helping themselves to seconds, and that made the latecomers feel they’d arrived right on time. I hadn’t had a chance to eat much since that one little doughnut at breakfast, so I pigged out on the pork, so tender it was falling apart, and the juicy chicken, while surreptitiously watching Craig and his family.

Stuffed, I excused myself to start coffee perking and put on tea. It wouldn’t be long before people drifted inside in search of dessert. For some reason, Natasha, Wanda, and Mordecai, who clutched his dog, were in my kitchen again. Natasha tried to steer Mordecai out in a big rush, but he said, “I’m glad you left the fireplace in the dining room. A lot of people close them up.”

“Mordecai,” she said, gritting her teeth, “this isn’t my house.”

“Didn’t Faye leave it to you?”

“She left it to my . . . my . . .”

Natasha wasn’t often at a loss for words. I bit my lip to hide a grin.

Her mother jumped to her aid, though. “Faye left the house to Natasha’s fiancé, Mars.”

Fiancé? That was news to me. My gaze darted to Natasha’s hand, but I didn’t see a ring. She nearly shoved poor Mordecai and his little dog out the door in her hurry to escape.

Chuckling, I started the coffee in the quiet house and turned when I heard footsteps.

Darby was tiptoeing up the stairs.

THIRTEEN

From “THE GOOD LIFE ONLINE”:
No matter how large your wedding, you can personalize it and add charm by incorporating family heirlooms like your grandmother’s crystal vase or the cake platter used in your parents’ wedding. There’s no rule that everything has to match. Don’t be afraid to add your own personal touches.
—Sophie Winston

Maybe Darby didn’t know there was a half bath on the main floor? I intended to find out and did a little tiptoeing myself. But thanks to my ever-curious cat Mochie, who scampered up the stairs ahead of me, his little paws sounding as heavy as Daisy’s when they hit the wooden treads, I lost the element of surprise.

At the top of the stairs, I stopped to listen. Where had Darby gone? Mochie knew and sprinted straight into the guest room where I’d inspected Craig’s suitcase. I heard snapping, and I swear I saw Darby stand the suitcase upright.

When she saw me, she acted embarrassed and gestured toward the window that overlooked the backyard. “I hope you don’t mind. I started out looking for the ladies’ room, but this house is so interesting, I couldn’t help myself and I took a little tour. How old is it?”

I didn’t believe her for a minute. “The original structure was built in 1825.”

“What a cute cat,” she gushed. “He’s very inquisitive, isn’t he?”

Pretending to be friendly, I ushered her downstairs. Why would she go through Craig’s suitcase? “How long has it been since you saw Craig?”

“Five years, I’m sure. I notice the house doesn’t have a garage. Where do you park?”

“On the street.”

BOOK: Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The

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