Reap What You Sew (29 page)

“Just because Glenda was responsible for making sure everything was as it should be, doesn’t mean she’s the only one who knew where to find Anita’s lifelines. You knew, Margot knew, everyone knew.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that I had something to do with Anita’s death?” Todd whispered. “Do you really think I could do something like that?”

She held up her hands. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what, exactly, are you saying?”

Milo’s words filled her thoughts, prompting her to ask a question she’d been dying to ask for days. “Did Anita have any sort of run-in with Rick in the days leading up to her death?”

“No, not to my knowledge. Though, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. What I do know is that Rick wasn’t a huge fan of Anita, the main reason being the fact that she was around Warren virtually twenty-four/seven.” Todd dropped onto a nearby bench. “And as far as Anita was concerned, she, like everyone else around here, was very aware of the familial connection between Warren and Rick. So she tended to be a bit more tolerant of him than the rest of us.”

“But it’s not out of the question,” she insisted. “They
could
have had a fallout, right?”

“I suppose.” Todd shrugged. “Why?”

“Did he know where Anita’s EpiPen and emergency cell phone were kept?”

“Everyone did.”

“Maybe
he
gave her the brownie and then swiped the stuff she would have needed to save her life.” She heard the excitement in her voice, knew she’d come up with the perfect suspect.

“Wouldn’t that have been great?” Todd rested his elbows on his thighs and hung his head to his chest. “That would have been a two-birds-with-one-stone kind of thing for any one of us who’ve had our fill of egomaniacs on set. But it couldn’t have happened. Not by Rick’s hands, anyway.”

“Why not?”

Todd pulled his head up and met her questioning eyes. “Because Rick wouldn’t have touched a brownie with nuts, either.”

“Why not?” she repeated.

“Because Rick Manning is allergic to nuts, too.”

Chapter 26

Tori pulled the roast from the oven and set it on the cooling tray, the enticing aroma of seasoned pork doing little to lift her spirits. She’d been so sure that Rick Manning was the key to Anita Belise’s death. His attitude, his arrogance, the way he’d threatened Leona…

It had all fit.

Yet, with just eight words, Todd had managed to destroy her perfect theory and send her back to square one.

She didn’t like square one. She didn’t like it at all.

Once the shock of Rick’s allergy had worn off, she’d forced herself to consider other possibilities. Margot knew where the EpiPen was kept and she was just as sick of Anita as anyone else. So, too, was Glenda—the one woman who was actually tasked with the job of making sure Anita’s emergency supplies were always at the ready.

But nothing she came up with made sense. Not enough, anyway.

She peeked around the corner at Milo, his precise manner of setting the table bringing a much-needed smile to her lips. “I was so hoping I’d figured it out, you know? Then, at least in that regard, Margaret Louise’s stress load would be a little lighter.”

With a steady hand, Milo poured wine into both of their glasses. When he was done, he set the opened bottle in the middle of the table and crossed the room to take her hands. “You’ll get it, Tori. Have faith.”

“I’m trying.” She relished his quick squeeze then returned to the task of slicing the roast onto a platter as he stirred the homemade mashed potatoes and transferred the rolls into a serving bowl.

“This looks delicious, sweetheart.”

“Thanks—”

A knock at the back door made them both turn, Leona’s stylish frame visible through the sheer yellow door panel. She dropped the knife onto the cutting board and crossed to the door.

“Leona. How are you?” Backing up, she gestured her friend inside. “Did you find anything out this afternoon?”

She knew the question was futile, especially in light of the theory-buster Todd had dropped, but she was nothing if not optimistic.

“You mean, beyond the fact that Warren is a bit of a bore?” Leona stopped in the middle of the kitchen, her nose twitching in time with Paris’s. “Good heavens, dear, what on earth is that delicious smell?”

“A pork roast.” Glancing at Milo, she met his quick nod with one of her own. “Would you like to stay and eat with us? We’d love it if you would.”

Milo stopped stirring potatoes long enough to plant a kiss on Leona’s waiting cheek. “Yes, please stay.”

Leona looked down at Paris and then back up at Tori. “Would you have something for Paris to eat? I don’t like to eat in front of her.”

She nibbled her lower lip inward in an attempt to stifle the laugh she felt building. “Of course, Leona. I have some lettuce and a few carrots if that will work.”

Lifting her arms in line with her face, Leona addressed a wide-eyed Paris. “Do carrots and lettuce sound good, my precious angel?”

Paris twitched her ears.

Leona snuggled the rabbit into her arms and smiled. “I believe we’ll stay, dear. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she said, turning back to the roast as Milo set another spot at the table. “So what brings you by?”

“Item number four.”

She stopped slicing and glanced at Leona. “Item number four?”

Leona nodded. “I saw you with Mamma at the end of the meeting last night. I saw her hand you back the scissors, button tin, and pincushion.”

Tori swallowed.

“I thank you for not mentioning it in front of everyone,” Leona said. “I’m not sure Margaret Louise could have handled that.”

She lifted the platter of meat from the counter and headed toward the dining room. “There really was no need for anyone to know. As soon as I asked Annabelle about the items, she gave them up with no fuss at all. And, to be honest, if I didn’t have to make four more rag quilts, I would have let her just keep everything.”

“Well, she didn’t give you back everything.” Leona set Paris on the floor then picked up the rolls and mashed potatoes and followed Tori.

“She gave me back everything I saw her take.” She looked around the table then returned to the kitchen long enough to secure salt and pepper shakers and the broccoli and cheese casserole.

“She gave you back three things,” Leona said as Tori walked back into the room. “There’s always four. Always.”

She set the casserole on the table and plopped into her chair. “Why four?”

Leona waved her freshly manicured fingers in the air. “I don’t know. There just is. It’s been that way since I was a little girl.”

Tori took in the information as she passed the meat and sides to Leona first, and then Milo. “So what did I miss? A package of needles? A spool of thread?”

Leona placed a small spoonful of potatoes onto her plate then reached into the pocket of her silk blazer. “Your list.”

Tori stared at the folded piece of paper and piece of white and gold ribbon in Leona’s palm. “My list? I didn’t have a…” Her words trailed off as her memory finally engaged with her mouth. “Oh, wait. I remember now. That’s the list that Colby made for me.”

Milo looked up from his plate. “What kind of list?”

Tori took the paper and ribbon from Leona’s hand and placed them next to her own plate. With quick hands, she unfolded the paper and spun it around for Milo to see. “I asked Colby if he knew anyone connected to the film. I figured a list of the studio employees might reveal some sort of clue. But, of course, there was nothing.”

Milo scanned each line, pointing at people he’d either met or heard about via Tori. When he reached the end, he flipped it over, his finger stopping on Stan Kelly. “The kids loved this guy.” Flicking his hand at the ribbon beside Tori’s plate, he smiled. “And not just for his special candy, either.”

Milo’s finger followed Stan’s information across the page. “I sure hope he’s able to stick around this time and keep that promise he made to his son.”

“Me, too.” Tori cut a piece of pork and brought it to her mouth, her gaze falling on the gold and white ribbon next to her plate. “What’s that?”

Leona perked up. “Oh. Sorry. I found that in Mamma’s bag when I was going through it this morning. I guess it got caught on your list.”

“Why were you going through Annabelle’s bag?” she asked.

“Because I gave her that beaded bag I bought at the mall the other day.” Leona pushed her meat around the plate, stopping to fork up every piece of broccoli. “I’m hoping a new bag might make for some new habits.”

She laid her fork across her plate and studied her friend.

“Yes, dear?” Leona asked.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Leona folded her hands gently in her lap and batted her eyelashes ever so gently. “Of course I do.”

Milo covered his laugh with a well-placed hand, leaving Tori as the sole recipient of Leona’s infamous raised eyebrow. “Are you mocking me, dear?”

She rushed to deny the charge. “Of course not. It’s just that I said what I said for reasons you’ve probably not heard before.”

“Oh? And what might those be?” Leona drawled.

Lifting the tablecloth to the side, Tori peeked at the bunny sitting peacefully at Leona’s feet. “Taking care of Paris the way you do, giving Patches to Rose so she wouldn’t feel so lonely all the time, visiting your mamma at Three Winds every morning, buying her a new bag for her things… It’s special, Leona,” she said. “
You’re
special.”

A hint of crimson rose in Leona’s cheeks only to disappear just as quickly. “I have to admit I’m hoping Mamma will use her new bag for her own things instead of everyone else’s things.” Leona waved her hand toward the list. “It took almost an hour to sort out everything she’d accumulated. But once I started organizing things into Mamma’s standard groups of four, it became a little easier.”

“I wasn’t the only one with stuff in there?” she asked.

It was Leona’s turn to laugh, though her laugh was tinged with a bit of sadness, too. “No. Seems she was taken by Debbie’s sewing notions, too.”

“But how?” Tori protested. “Annabelle wasn’t sitting anywhere near Debbie last night.”

“We got up for dessert, didn’t we?” Leona took a sip of wine and held onto the goblet. “It doesn’t take Mamma long. In fact, it’s a rare day when she gets caught in the act.”

She knew she shouldn’t make light of the elderly woman’s condition, but it was hard. Annabelle Elkin was a sweet, sweet woman. “So my list was the lone oddball item in the bag, huh?”

“Actually, no. There were three other things in the bag that I imagine belong to one of Mamma’s fellow residents.”

“But what happened to the fourth?” Milo asked.

“Someone caught her trying to pocket the last one is all. It happens from time to time.” Leona took a second, longer sip of wine, setting the glass on the table with a gentle hand when she was done. “I’ll try to match the last three items to their correct owner in the morning.”

Tori cut through the middle of her roll, spreading a thin layer of butter on each half. “Does Margaret Louise know about any of this?”

“No. I’m capable of cleaning up after Mamma once in a while, too, you know.”

She loved spending time with her friends, she really did, but there were times, like that very moment, when she absolutely treasured her time alone with Milo. His gentle ways calmed her, his strong voice encouraged her, and the way he looked at her made her feel as if everything in life would turn out right.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted the past week or so. I just hate seeing Margaret Louise so upset.” Pulling her grandmother’s favorite afghan off the back of the couch, she tucked it around her legs and cuddled into the crook of Milo’s arm. “It’s like someone shook the earth and the dust hasn’t quite settled yet.”

“I understand, sweetheart. I really do.” Milo rested his head against the back of the couch, his hand stroking the side of Tori’s face as he did. “I just wish I could do something to help. But since I don’t really know any of the players, it’s tough to know what to say or do.”

“And I
do
know some of the players and I don’t know what to say or do, either.” She closed her eyes and thought back over the day. “I mean, I guess Glenda could have done it… she was certainly on the receiving end of a lot of Anita angst. So much so, she was always afraid for her job.”

“Why?”

“From what I’ve been able to gather, that was Anita’s threat of choice to keep her employees in line.”

“Did she ever follow through?” Milo asked.

“I don’t know. But that’s a good question to ask Todd the next time I see him.” She snuggled still closer to Milo and deliberately changed the subject, the need to lighten the evening’s mood increasing moment by moment. “Pretty wild about Annabelle, huh?”

“I’ll say. But Leona seems to be handling it well.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Leona was a lot of things—ornery, bossy, even a little full of herself at times. But when push came to shove, she was a gem in her own right. “I’m so glad I moved here,” she whispered. “To have friends like Margaret Louise and Leona, Rose and Debbie, Melissa and Beatrice, Georgina and Dixie…” She peered up at the man sitting next to her. “And to find someone like you… I couldn’t be more blessed.”