Read Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked Online

Authors: Kathleen Delaney

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Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked (12 page)

BOOK: Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked
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“Doctor Sadler is

was

the kind of guy who thought he knew best. And I have to admit, the baby would be a lot better off with some other father than Grady.”

“Still
…”

“I know.” Gina looked very uncomfortable. “It was a reprehensible thing to do. I
t was
all I could do to keep my mouth shut the day he came in here, bragging that all he had to do now was put pressure on Marilee to sign and the kid would have a great new home.”

I was clutching my cake box so hard I was in danger of squishing it. And, I had to go. I was going to be late, but I had to ask Gina one more question. “And you think Grady followed him to the cemetery, asked him where he could find Marilee, and when Doctor Sadler wouldn’t tell him, killed him?”

“I think
… Y
es, something like that.”

I stared at her, trying to think of something to say. My opinion of Dr. Sadler had just sunk to a new low, but this was about the most far-fetched theory I’d ever heard, or even read about.
The cemetery was on the other side of the main bridge in town and several thousand people went over that bridge every day.
The fact that
one person with a very tentative tie to the murder victim had also crossed it was not my idea of proof of murder. It didn’t even make him a suspect. “How could Grady have known where Doctor Sadler had gone?”

The expression on Gina’s face was grim. “Every Tuesday and Saturday Doctor Sadler visited his wife’s grave. He always went at the same time. You could set your watch by those visits. Everyone in town knew. All Grady Wilcox had to do was drive out there and wait for him. And
,
I think he did.”

“And you want me to do

what?”

“Mention it to Chief Dunham. Tell him to

think about it. Grady Wilcox is an out of control idiot and he wants to find Marilee. Bad.” She looked at me intently, no trace of the smile that had been on her face while she worked on the cake. “I’m worried, Ellen. Tell Chief Dunham. Please.”

She let go of the door, which started to close. I moved out of the way and stood on the sidewalk for a moment. I watched Gina through the glass door as she walked toward the back of the bakery, I assumed to finish decorating the Princess cake. She wanted me to tell Dan
… E
xactly what? That Marilee’s husband was a hothead and had been seen driving in the general direction of the cemetery on the same day Doctor Sadler had been killed? Dan would be really impressed. However, I would tell him that Marilee might be in some kind of danger from him. Or was she? Maybe I was still traumatized by Janice and her terrible ordeal. I’d pass all this on to Dan anyway. He was the chief of police. Let him deal with it. I had pressing concerns of my own. I turned and walked toward my car. I still had time to stop at home, but only if I hurried.

 

 

Chapter Nine
 

I
left the muffins on the kitchen table and hid the Lemon Semolina Cake in the hutch. I had no idea who might turn up

Dan, Susannah, and if she came home, Neil was bound to follow. I hoped the muffins would distract the perennially hungry members of my family and they wouldn’t go hunting for something more. I really wanted at least one piece of that cake. Which brought me back to Gina. How wonderful it would be if she could talk Rose out of the poinsettia tower. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, for some reason she seemed to take such pride in that cake, but I didn’t want it. This wedding
was
turning out to be everyone’s but Dan’s and mine. My dress, the caterer, the guest list

I’d lost control of all of them. If I could just get my cake back, or not get the one I didn’t want, I would be forever in Gina’s debt.

Weddings, it was turning out, were a lot more work and a whole lot more emotional turmoil than I
had
realized. I’d heard all the jokes about them

nervous brides, awful mothers and mothers-in-law, drunk grooms

and knew that lots of them were staged like Broadway productions. I wanted to avoid all of that. I had envisioned a small wedding, just family and a few close friends.
I would be in a simple but elegant gown and Dan would look handsome in a traditional tux. The reception dinner would be
tasteful
and the wines would be remarkable. Instead I had a guest list that kept getting longer, a wedding dress that was
being
transform
ed
in
to I didn’t know
what
, and no caterer. Actually, I had one. I just didn’t want him. No wonder I was frustrated and grumpy.

I drove over the bridge toward Grace
House.

The closer we got to the big day
,
the more convinced I was that Dan and I should have eloped. I was having a recurring dream that I was walking down the aisle wearing that Scarlet O’Hara getup, veil trailing behind the huge hat. My mother was beaming at me while everyone else roll
ed
around in the pews, laughing. At the end of the church aisle, where an altar should have been, was a giant wedding cake with bright red flowers all over it. Rev. Forester stood behind it, grinning at me, a knife in one hand, a plate in the other.

Grace House’s front door was closed against the
early winter
chill, but I could still hear raised voices. I hesitated a moment, not wanting to intrude on some personal trauma, not wanting to intrude on any kind of trauma, but I had an appointment. I
breathed
deep
ly
and rang the bell. It took a moment before it was answered.

“Ellen. I’m so sorry. Did I keep you waiting? We’re sort of

u
h

having a discussion.”

Anne held the door wide and I walked into a room vibrating with tension and hostility.

Leona and Nathan stood in the middle of the living room, staring at each other like the Gingham Dog
and
the Calico Cat
.
Marilee huddled on the couch, one hand holding her back, the other dabbing at tearstained eyes with a flaking tissue.

“Oh,” I said, lamely.” I didn’t mean to interrupt. Are you having one of your group things?”

“No, not exactly.” Nathan never took his eyes off Leona

“Let’s ask her.” Leona jumped toward me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me into the middle of the room. “She doesn’t give a flying fuck what happens around here. She’s got problems of her own, so she’ll be a neutral party. So, Ellen, what do you think?”

What I thought was I’d landed myself in something I wanted nothing to do with. I wanted out, and quick, but as Leona still held my arm and all the others were staring at me, I figured I’d better say something. I settled for the obvious. “My opinion on what?”

Anne sighed deeply and extricated my arm from Leona’s strong grasp. “Let’s all sit down, shall we?”

Everyone slowly choose a chair. Nathan pulled a kitchen chair up beside the sofa, as close to Marilee as he could get. He reached over as if to take her hand but quickly pulled back. Leona chose the sofa. She sat so close she was almost in Marilee’s lap, what was left of it. The poor kid was so squished she could barely raise her arm to dab at her eyes.

I took the chair closest to the door.

“Ellen, Leona wants to leave Grace House,” Anne began. She shook her head at the chair Nathan had dragged up to the sofa for her, choosing instead to pace up and down. She paused to look at me expectantly.

I nodded sagely, wondering why anyone would object to that.

“And she wants to take Marilee with her.”

Oh, oh. That didn’t sound like such a great idea. Evidently Nathan didn’t think so either because he spoke up passionately. “They can’t do that. Marilee will need lots of counseling after the baby’s born. And she’s got plans. That job with Central Coast Catering is waiting for her and later she wants to go to the Culinary Institute. That’s going to take money. She’ll need to save and she’ll need help with the baby while she’s in school and while she’s studying. It’ll be months before she can move out.”

“Months!” Anne whipped around to stare at Nathan. “We’re not equipped to
…”

“See? ” Leona spat at him. “I’ll take care of the baby. I had two kids of my own. I took care of them just fine, and I can take care of this one. I’ve got a job at the Yum Yum. I’m startin’ to get tips. We’ll make out great.”

“I’ve talked to Ruthie.” Anne returned her attention to Leona. She ran her fingers through her short gray hair, making some strands stand on end. There were a lot of emotions in her voice, but the chief one was exasperation. Or frustration. “Leona, if you don’t start showing up on time and stop taking so many cigarette breaks, you won’t have one much longer.”


I’ll get another job.”

Another? That might take a bit of doing. If Ruthie fired her, it wouldn’t be likely anyone in the food business would hire her. Of course, she could always try to get on as a greeter at Wal-Mart.

“Leona, you’ve been in and out of Grace House
… h
ow many times? And how many times have you gotten an apartment, a job, and started to drink again
?

“Yeah,” Leona mumbled. “But this time it’s different. This time I’m done for good. And I’d stay sober if I had them to look after. The baby’d take up a lot of time. I only drink because I get bored. Besides, Ruthie hasn’t fired me. She just sorta


“Warned you?” I could have sworn Anne gritted her teeth. Maybe not, but I sure felt like doing it. “Leona, you still need help. Part of the deal we made with you when you came back this time was that you attend AA meetings on a regular basis. How many have you gone to?”

Leona’s voice was so low the only word I caught sounded like “transportation.”

Anne ignored that. “Not one. Not one! And you’ve been here over two weeks. Homer Taylor isn’t going to rent you that mobile home any more. No one else will rent to you either unless you can prove you’ve got a stable job. If Ruthie fires you, getting another one isn’t going to be easy. And how are you going to help Marilee take care of the baby if you’re working every day?” She dropped into the vacant chair, as if her argument had
zapped
every last ounce of energy, and stared at Leona.

We all watched Leona struggle, trying to find a way out of what was so obviously true. Her eyes shifted from side to side, not really looking at any of us, giving the impression of a cornered animal.

Someone hiccupped. I looked around. Marilee’s tissue was nothing more than a ball of fuzz. Her eyes were red but the tears had dried. She turned her head and looked directly at Leona. “I’m not going to get an apartment, Leona, with you or anyone else. At least not right now.”

“That’s right.” Nathan sounded almost triumphant. “You need to stay right here and

You’ll be safe here.”

What made him think she wouldn’t be safe in an apartment?
I thought about Gina, how she had said Marilee’s husband was hunting for her. Did Nathan think he might

do something? What? Why?

“Of course you’re going to stay here.” Anne leaned forward over the coffee table, pushed aside the bowl of pinecones and took one of Marilee’s hands in hers. “We already discussed that. And after the baby’s born, we’ll figure out
daycare
so you can go back to work.”

Anne didn’t look as if she could figure out how to get to the front door. She looked exhausted. And no wonder. I’d only known her a few days but everyone had
presented another of
someone else’s horrendous problems
for her
to solve. Now she was practically guaranteeing Marilee and her unborn child a place to stay for an indefinite period, and she was throwing in babysitting. How was she going to do that and accommodate all of the other women standing in line, needing help?

“I’ll keep the baby. We’ll both stay right here. I only work the lunch hour. I’ll have plenty of time.”

Leona sounded on the verge of hysteria
,
as
though not
get
ting
an apartment with Marilee or shar
ing
living quarters with her
would mean
her life was over. Why, I wondered. What was so important about living with Marilee? Surely she could find another roommate. But

maybe she couldn’t find one with a baby.

Anne let go of Marilee’s hand and threw herself back in her chair. “Leona
…”

That was as far as she got.

“No.” Marilee struggled to sit up straight, her face white.

“That’s not a good idea.” Nathan’s voice was loud and clear, loaded with alarm.

“Why not?” Leona reacted as if physically attacked. She shrank back on the sofa, pushing back into the cushions and raising her arms as if to protect herself. The reaction seemed almost involuntary, as if
she
reacted that way often, because she immediately sat
up
straight
again
, belligerence in her tone and the stiffness of her body. “Why can’t I help? You afraid I’ll drop it or something? Or maybe you were listening to that old know-it-all Sadler.” She twisted around a little, maneuvering into the middle of the sofa until she could face Marilee. “Is that it? Did he tell you not to go in with me?” Her tone
was
shrill and her eyes narrowed with rage.

BOOK: Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked
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