Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked (11 page)

Did I? I had no idea. But I thought of all the people who would be in town for Christmas this year. “Yes. They sound wonderful.” I wasn’t sure they did, but you can’t have too much dessert at Christmas.

Gina must have known what I was thinking because she laughed. “Don’t worry. It also makes wonderful French toast. I’ll give you the recipe when you pick yours up, but I doubt you’ll have enough left.”

Gina seemed pretty familiar with Italian baking for someone who had only been working in a bakery a couple of weeks. “Are you going to make them?”
 

Gina nodded, her concentration on her careful strokes. “Probably.” Then her hand jerked. “Damn. Oh. Am I going to make them? No. Sal will. I’ll just
…
help. After all, that’s what I’m here for. To learn how to do it all.” She paused and looked up at me, chocolate frosting dripping from her spatula. “I love doing this. I’ve always loved baking. There’s something fundamental about it. References to bread are spread liberally throughout the Bible and the whole history of mankind. It makes me feel
…
connected.” The serious look vanished and she grinned. “Besides, I’m good at it.” She dumped more frosting on the top and started gently moving it around. It didn’t look like the waxy frosting on the other cakes. I wondered why this was so glossy and spread so nicely.

“Do you make the fillings or do you buy those also?”
The strawberry filling that remained in the stainless steel bowl didn’t have the dull thick sheen
of
most of the jams I used. This was thinner but somehow not runny, and the color was that of fresh strawberries. So was the scent.

“No, Rose makes all the fillings. At least for now.
Want to taste?” She gestured toward the bowl. “Go ahead, use your finger. That bowl is going directly into the dishwasher.” She watched me dip my finger into the small pool of filling left at the bottom of the bowl. “Wonderful.”

She smiled, a real smile, full of satisfaction, but it faded quickly. “I hope you don’t mind if I finish this. It’s a special order, a birthday cake. I’ve only got an hour before Mrs. Bing comes to pick it up.” She picked up a package that was half pushed under the frosting bowl. “Look. Disney Princesses. Melissa Bing is going to be five and I guess she’s in love with the whole princess thing. Also chocolate and strawberries.” She went back to frosting the cake. “Melissa is going to have a wonderful birthday.”

There was wistfulness in her tone. It made me wonder what Gina’s birthdays had been like.

“Okay. I’m going to put this in the refrigerator for a few minutes before I decorate it. That way the frosting will set a little, and I won’t be in as much danger of wrecking it.” She stared down at the cake for a moment, then at the pastry tube laying on the table and the small bowls of pale frosting, waiting for a dab of color from the half
-
squeezed plastic tubes lying haphazardly beside them. “You know, Sal didn’t want me to do this. He doesn’t want me to do anything but stand and watch and wait on the next customer.”
Her
smile was small and
not meant
for me. “However, he had no choice but to trust me. Well, maybe not
trust
, but he had to let me do it. I hope Mrs. Bing gets here before Sal. Now, let’s go get your Semolina Cake.”

It didn’t take long. And, since I was there, I added a half dozen of the cranberry orange muffins, a loaf of the just-out-of-the
-
oven cinnamon raisin bread, and, a further testament to my lack of will power, a cream cheese Danish. I’d give Pat and Susannah my review later. When it was all gone.

Gina tied up the pink box that contained the cake and piled the smaller box containing the muffins on top and handed them to me. “How are you going to carry all this? Wait.” She slipped the bread into a paper bag and tucked
it
under my right arm. I had the Danish, partially wrapped in a piece of paper, in the other hand but that wasn’t a problem. It wouldn’t last until I got home. And home was where I was going, if I had enough time. I didn’t want my precious cake bouncing around in the backseat while I showed Anne houses.

“Did Rose go to the funeral?”

Gina looked a little surprised. “Yes, they both went. They’d known Doctor Sadler a long time.”

“When will they be back?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think they are going to go to the cemetery and then there’s the reception, or the gathering, or whatever they call it, at the church hall. I sent over a couple of cakes for it.”

“You did?” Why that surprised me I didn’t know. “I really need to talk to Rose.”

“About your wedding cake?”

“Well, yes, that’s one thing. I also wondered if they knew any caterers. I thought maybe they worked with one they could recommend. One that’s still not completely booked for New Year’s Eve.”

“Doesn’t the Inn have a chef?”

“Yes. He’s been booked for months. I’m getting so desperate I may go back to the guy who wanted to barbe
c
ue tri-tip. Not that I don’t like tri-tip, or barbe
c
ue, but it wasn’t what I had in mind for my wedding reception.”

Gina smiled. “I’ll bet his idea for hors d’oeuvres was the little
flakey
pastry things filled with spinach. The ones you can buy frozen at the wholesale market.”

“How did you know?”

“I think I’ve run into him before. I wonder
… L
ook. I’m going to talk to Marilee. Maybe she can help.”

“Marilee?” I pictured her as I had seen her last. Huge with child, white
-
faced with fright
. W
hat on earth could she do
?

“Marilee worked for a catering company part-time her last two years in high school, and they loved her.” Gina smiled at my surprise. “You’d never suspect, would you. Poor, scared Marilee. And she has plenty to be scared about right now. But she loved the catering business. After this baby is born, she’s going to go back to it, maybe even train as a chef. Not a cook, a
chef
. I’ll get her to ask Central Coast Catering if they can do it. If anyone can get you a caterer, one you’ll like, it’s Marilee.”

I just stared at Gina for a minute, trying to balance this version of Marilee with the one I’d seen. It didn’t fit, but then, I’d only seen the girl under the worst of circumstances. I’d never heard of Central Coast Catering, but if they offered something besides tri-tip and fried potatoes, I was in.
“Okay. Ask her. She can’t do any worse than I’ve done. But, when Rose gets back, could you ask her also?”

“I can. And, Ellen, I’ll do something else. Let me talk to Rose about the cake. I think I can convince her
that
the one you want is best.”

I thought I might kiss her. Or hug her, or something. “How can you do that?”

“You liked her strawberry filling, right?”

I nodded, puzzled.

“We’ll get Rose to make several different kinds of her special fillings and each layer will feature one of them. That should make her forget the poinsettias.

“Do you really think so?”

“Sure. She wants to make something special for you, so we’ll substitute red flowers for fillings. I’ll call you
…
later today?”

“Great. I’ll be back in the office
…
oh
…
in a couple of hours. I have an appointment with Anne and I’d better get going or I won’t have enough time to drop all this stuff off at home.”

I handed Gina a twenty dollar bill. She rang everything up and handed me a small handful of coins and a couple of ones. I looked at them and thought maybe I’d better reconsider my no baking rule. I thanked her and headed for the door.

“Ellen, wait.”

She walked ahead of me and opened the door. The little bell sounded, but she ignored it. “Ellen, does Chief Dunham have any idea who killed Doctor Sadler?”

Did she really think I’d answer that, even if I knew? “Dan won’t talk about ongoing investigations.” I hoped it didn’t sound as pompous to her as it did to me. “Why?”

“Because
…
well
…
you know Grady Wilcox? Marilee’s husband?”

“No. I’d never even heard of him until yesterday.”

“Oh. Well, he’s been looking for Marilee. Hard.”

I waited. There had to be more.

“He’s such a hothead, no one wants to tell him where she is, but I guess he’s furious for some reason and determined to find her.”

“I thought he threw her out.” I remembered the look on Marilee’s face when she asked who it was driving by the house the other day and how relieved she had been
to
f
in
d out it was Janice’s husband. Not hers. Not again, I thought. Not another poor woman about to become a victim of her husband.

“He did throw her out. And after she left, he had a great time. He and his buddies got drunk and high; they pretty much trashed th
e
mobile home they’d been renting.”

“So why all of a sudden does he want her back? To do the dishes?”

That got a small smile. “I doubt if Grady even notices them. No. And I’m not sure he wants her back. He wants to find her for some other reason entirely.”

“What reason?”

“I don’t know. But Anne’s daughter, Kate,”
she looked at me expectantly, as if she thought I should know her but I shook my head,
“works weekends at Smitty’s Barbe
c
ue
,
and she says Grady’s half frantic he wants to find her so bad.”

I stood in the open doorway, my arms filled with baked goods, more than a little confused. I felt bad for Marilee but this was information I didn’t need. I wondered where Gina was going with it.

“Does Marilee know he’s trying to find her? Does she know why?”

“She knows he’s looking for her and she’s scared of him. I asked her what he wants. She says she doesn’t know, but I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, that’s too bad, but I really have to go. I have an appointment with Anne and
…”

“Grady drove by here the day Doctor Sadler was killed,” Gina said hurriedly. “He was headed in the direction of the cemetery.”

It was more confusion than quality of information that stopped me again. “Are you suggesting that Grady killed Doctor Sadler?” Surely that wasn’t what she meant. “Why?”

“Doctor Sadler knew where Marilee was staying. Grady knew that because Doctor Sadler called him trying to get him to agree to the adoption. He even got Grady to sign the papers giving up all his parental rights.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe what she had just said. My appointment with Anne momentarily forgotten, I pressed on. “He went behind Marilee’s back to get the father’s permission? When he knew she wanted to keep the baby?”