Eggs Benedict Arnold (49 page)

“
And spontaneous?
”
asked Suzanne, raising a single,
quivering eyebrow.
“
Like
you
were with bad-boy Junior?
Running off to the Cupid
’
s Kiss Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas and getting married by an Elvis impersonator?
”

Toni wrinkled her nose and made a face.
“
We did have
‘
Blue Hawaii
’
playing in the background, but ... I see your point.
”
She sounded deflated.
“
And thanks so much
for dropping me back to terra firma with such a resounding
thud.
”

“
Truth hurts.
”
Suzanne laughed.

“
Hey,
”
said Toni, perking up again.
“
Some of the cakes
that have come in so far are really fantastic!
”
She pointed toward the table that held the sugar art cakes.
“
Did you see the one with the Faberge egg? And the one that looks like
King Arthur
’
s castle?
”
She eyed the castle cake thoughtfully, like she wanted to take a nibble.
“
What would you say that was? A toffee drawbridge with peanut brittle parapets?
”

“
Looks like,
”
said Suzanne, shifting her gaze to a smil
ing woman who
’
d just placed a pink-and-white five-tiered wedding cake in front of her, replete with fondant hearts and flying doves.

“
Yum,
”
joked Toni.
“
I
’
d like to storm that castle.
”

Suzanne left Toni to handle cake entries, while she hurried into the other tent to check on demos. Jenny was hand
painting a fondant orchid, while Cece was piping silver icing. Excellent. So ... now to check on Petra.

“
Sharon just called and cancelled,
”
said Petra, when Su
zanne walked into the kitchen.

“
Oh no,
”
said Suzanne. Sharon was one of their judges.
“
Now we
’
ll have to tap somebody else.
”

“
Well, think about it sooner than later,
”
said Petra.
“
Cause I
’
m going berserk here with everything else.
”

“
Okay, okay,
”
said Suzanne, thinking she
’
d better get back outside.

Petra poured olive oil into a mixing bowl that already
held egg yolks and powdered mustard.
“
Any word on your
buddy, Dil?
”
she asked. When she
’
d found out Dil had wan
dered away yesterday, she
’
d been particularly saddened.

Suzanne shook her head.
“
No, and I don
’
t expect there
’
s
going to be any. Dil
’
s gone. Slipped down a couple of alleys and hightailed it out of town.
”

“
You never know,
”
said Petra.
“
He could turn up again.
”

“
I don
’
t think so,
”
said Suzanne.
“
I have the feeling he
’
s
gone for good.
”

“
Pity,
”
said Petra.
“
Maybe we could have helped him.
”

“
And I have this niggling feeling,
”
said Suzanne,
“
that just maybe he saw something last Sunday that could have shed some light on two very gruesome murders.
”
A wave
of guilt surged through her. Should she have driven Dil di
rectly to the law enforcement center and let Doogie question him? Or would her actions simply have pushed Dil over the edge?

“
Now we
’
ll never know,
”
said Petra. She wiped her hands on a towel, then paused for a few moments to con
sider her next words.
“
Unless, of course, you talk to Doo
gie and ask him to put out some sort of police bulletin. That
way law enforcement could ... I don
’
t know ... pick him up in the next county or something?
”

“
I hear you,
”
Suzanne said, glumly.
“
And I
’
ve been thinking that exact same thing.
”

“
What you have to balance,
”
said Petra,
“
is whether find
ing your guy might help solve two murders or just screw him up even more.
”

“
I don
’
t have the answer to that,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Nobody does.
”

“
Just noodle the whole thing around,
”
urged Petra.
“
You
’
ll figure out what
’
s right. You always do.
”

“
Then you have more faith in my judgment than I do,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Look at it this way,
”
said Petra,
“
everything we grew up
trusting
—banks, our government, the financial market, big
corporations—have let us down in recent months. So . . .
do I believe, in my heart of hearts, that the three of us will always try to do what
’
s right? You bet I do!
”

“
Thank you for reminding me to keep the faith,
”
said Suzanne. She picked up two coffeepots, ready to bump
through the swinging door into the cafe, when a sharp rap sounded at the back door. She turned and saw a wavering shadow looming on the other side of the screen door.

“
Holy Toledo,
”
muttered Petra.
“
That
’
s probably Bill
Crowley with a couple crates of eggs.
”
She shook her head
and frowned at the crates of lettuce, boxes of to
m
at
oes, and
various and sundry ingre
di
e
nts
that
were already strewn everywhere. All stuff for tonight
’
s gourmet dinner.
“
It
’
s a mess back here. And the cooler
’
s jammed. What are we gonna do with the darn things?
”

Suzanne dropped her coffeepots onto the wooden coun
ter and said,
“
I
’
ll take care of
th
is.
”
She scurried to the back
door, said,
“
Bill, is there any way you can . . . ?
”
Then stopped. Because it wasn
’
t Bill who was hovering on the other side of the door.

“
Hey,
”
said Kit, squinting at Suzanne with a tentative smile.
“
Remember me?
”
She added a brief wave.

“
I do,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Bet you didn
’
t think I
’
d show up,
”
said Kit. She stared
through the screen, taking in Suzanne
’
s startled expression
and added,
“
No, you
really
didn
’
t think I
’
d accept your offer.
”

Suzanne recovered quickly, smiling warmly as she pushed open the door.
“
But here you are, so come on in.
”
She was pleased Kit had elected to spend her Saturday at their Take the Cake Show instead of jiggling at Hoobly
’
s roadhouse.

“
Petra,
”
said Suzanne, taking Kit
’
s hand and gently pull
ing her toward the stove, where Petra was deeply involved
in caramelizing large rings of Vidalia onions.
“
We have re
inforcements. This is Kit.
”

Petra glanced at the girl in the white T-shirt and denim skirt.
“
Kit?
”
She stu
died
her for a moment, then said,
“
I remember you.
”

Kit seemed to pull back slightly.

“
You worked at the Dairy Bar a couple of summers back,
”
said Petra.
“
Scooping ice cream and making milkshakes.
”
She shot a glance at Suzanne, who
’
d clued her in yesterday about Kit.

“
That
’
s right,
”
said Kit.

“
Haven
’
t seen you there lately,
”
said Petra.

“
Been trying out some other stuff,
”
said Kit, a little ner
vous now.

“
Well, plop one of those aprons around your neck, dar
lin
’
,
”
said Petra.
“
And, say, how are you at frosting cake? We
’
re serving mocha cakes for our cake and ice cream social this afternoon, which means each individual piece has to be frosted with coffee cream icing, then rolled in chopped walnuts.
”
She paused.
“
Can you do that?
”

“
I can do that,
”
said Kit.
“
In fact, it sounds like fun.
”

“
Then you
’
re heaven-sent,
”
replied Petra.

“
Well... not quite.
”
Kit giggled as Suzanne gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Ten seconds later, Toni came crashing through the swinging door.
“
It
’
s crazy busy out there!
”
she exclaimed.

“
Folks are pouring in from all over the county. And not
just women. There
’
s a fair share of guys, too. You wouldn
’
t
think fondant fairies and flowers would be that popular with the fellas, would you?
”

“
Calm down, Toni,
”
instructed Petra.
“
Take a deep breath.
”

“
I would,
”
responded Toni,
“
except Joey
’
s out there ladling lemonade like a one-armed paperhanger, and I
’
m
pretty sure we
’
re gonna run dry in about two minutes flat.
”
She glanced around the kitchen, finally noticed Kit. A big smile creased Toni
’
s face.
“
Hey, it
’
s Lady Dubbonet! How
ya doing, girlfriend? Did you bring your dancing shoes?
”