Wedding Cake Killer (2 page)

I
t was the silli
est thing. As she sat there on the metal bunk with its thin, hard mattress, her back against a cinder-block wall painted a hideous shade of institutional green, Phyllis Newsom felt like she ought to be singing a song.

“Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen,” to be specific. As far as she could remember, although she had heard that song a number of times, usually in a movie or TV show, she had never actually sung it before.

But that made sense, because she’d never been locked up in jail before, either.

Phyllis sighed, closed her eyes, and lifted a hand to massage her temples. She wasn’t going to sing. The only reason such silly thoughts even occurred to her, she realized, was that she was trying to take her mind off the fact that she’d been arrested.

A woman her age, who had never been in trouble with the law in her life—well, not real trouble, anyway, if you didn’t count annoying a police detective every now and then—and she’d been arrested, locked up, thrown in the hoosegow, checked in at the old gray-bar hotel . . .

She was doing it again. Trying to distract herself. And it wasn’t working.

“Shoot,” she whispered.

She was in the county jail, just off Fort Worth Highway near the railroad tracks, not far from the eastern edge of downtown Weatherford, Texas. She’d been here before. Not in the jail itself, of course, but in the building, since it also housed the Parker County Sheriff’s Department, and her son, Mike, was a deputy.

Thinking about Mike made Phyllis squeeze her eyes even more tightly closed. This was going to be so humiliating for him, having a mother who’d been arrested. She wondered if he had heard about it yet. If there was any way to keep him from ever finding out, it would be worth it.

Of course, the best way would have been not to interfere in a murder investigation in the first place—District Attorney Timothy Sullivan had warned her that he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore—but if she had done that, it would have meant leaving one of her best friends at the mercy of a legal system that was already convinced she was guilty. Phyllis couldn’t do that.

Anyway, what she had done wasn’t really that bad. Technically it might be considered obstruction of justice and interfering with a police investigation, but as far as Phyllis was concerned, she had just been trying to get to the truth.

Life in the jail went on around her. Doors slammed. People, mostly men, talked to one another, but occasionally she heard a woman’s voice, too. Footsteps sounded on the tile and cement floors. A buzzer of some sort went off. A phone rang.

Phyllis opened her eyes and studied the holding cell. The wall behind her was an exterior one; that was why it was made of cinder blocks. The interior walls were metal painted the same noxious shade of green. The steel door had a small window covered with metal mesh in it. That was the only window of any sort in the small room. The floor was cement and had a drain with a metal grate over it in the center of the cell. She didn’t want to think about why the cell had a drain in it. There was . . . something . . . built into one wall that she thought was a toilet, but she wasn’t sure. If it was, it was bound to be extremely uncomfortable. A built-in fluorescent light and a vent in the ceiling for the heating and air-conditioning system completed the room’s furnishings.

Phyllis felt a scream trying to well up in her throat. She crossed her arms and stiffened her resolve. She was not going to give in to the emotions she felt right now. She was going to remain cool and collected. She really hadn’t been here that long, and surely she wouldn’t be here much longer. Her lawyer, Juliette Yorke, had promised to be here right away.

In fact, footsteps were coming along the corridor outside the holding cells right now, she realized. When they stopped on the other side of the door, she heaved a sigh of relief. They would be taking her to a bail hearing now, and soon she could start trying to figure out what to do about this travesty of justice.

But when the electronic lock buzzed and the door swung open, it wasn’t Juliette who stood there; it was Mike in his sheriff’s department uniform, and he looked angry, upset, and scared all at the same time.

So much for the futile hope that he wouldn’t find out about it.

“Mike . . . ,” Phyllis said.

“Mom,” he said, “what the hell have you done?”

Phyllis felt some anger of her own. “I don’t like you taking that tone with me, Mike, and as for what I’ve done, I didn’t have any choice. I have to prove that Eve isn’t a murderer. You know good and well that Eve Turner never killed anyone in her life!”

Chapter 1

Christmas Eve, sever
al weeks earlier

“O
h, my, look at all the cars,” Phyllis said as Sam Fletcher drove his pickup along the block where they lived. “I didn’t think people would start showing up this early. They’ve blocked off the driveway, Sam.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Sam said. “Tell you what. I’ll stop in front of the house and you can get out and go on in. I’ll find a place to park down the street and walk back.”

“That’s not fair. You live here, and these people don’t.”

“Yeah, but that means they won’t be stayin’. They’ll all leave when the shower’s over. I can bring the pickup back down then.”

“Well, I suppose so,” Phyllis said. “I just hate to put you to any more trouble after everything that’s already happened today.”

“You mean that killer we caught?” Sam asked with a smile. “Or that you caught, is more like it. Heck, I’m gettin’ used to that. How many times does this make?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Phyllis told him as a tiny shudder went through her. “I want to put all that behind us. This is Christmas Eve, after all, and it’s Eve’s bridal shower, too. I think that’s plenty to keep us busy the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“If you say so.” Sam brought the pickup to a smooth stop in front of the big old two-story house he shared with Phyllis, Carolyn Wilbarger, and Eve Turner, two more retired teachers.

They wouldn’t be sharing it with Eve for much longer, though. Another week and she and Roy Porter would be married. Eve and Roy planned to come back here to the house after their honeymoon and stay temporarily while they continued looking for a place of their own, but that wouldn’t be the same.

But then, nothing ever stayed the same, Phyllis mused as she got out of the pickup. Like it or not, life-altering changes came along every few years. She had become a teacher, gotten married to Kenny, given birth to their son, Mike, continued teaching while they raised him into a fine young man, seen him marry and have a son of his own, retired . . .

And then Kenny had died, leaving her to rattle around alone in that big old house. Dolly Williamson, the former superintendent and a longtime friend, had suggested that Phyllis rent out the extra bedrooms to other retired teachers who were on their own, and once Phyllis had done that, she’d believed that from then on, life would settle down into a serene existence without the upheavals of youth.

Well,
that
hadn’t worked out, had it?

People had come and gone in the house. Mattie Harris, one of Phyllis’s oldest friends, had passed away. Sam Fletcher had moved in. Now Eve was getting married and moving out. That was inevitable, Phyllis supposed. Although she didn’t know the details because Eve hadn’t lived in Weatherford at the time, she was aware that her friend had been married several times. Really, Eve had been without a man in her life for longer than Phyllis had expected.

Then there were the murders . . .

But as she’d told Sam, she didn’t want to think about that, so she didn’t. As she stepped up onto the porch, she didn’t allow herself to remember the body she had literally stumbled over there not that long ago. She didn’t glance at the house next door, where she had found another body a few years earlier. And as she stepped into the house and saw all the people crowding into the living room, she told herself sternly that nobody was going to try to poison her guests at this get-together.

They’d better not, anyway.

Carolyn Wilbarger spotted Phyllis and quickly came over to her, smiling and nodding to some of the ladies along the way. Still smiling as she reached Phyllis, she said in a tight-lipped whisper, “Oh, my word. I didn’t expect this many people.”

Smiling as well, Phyllis replied, “Neither did I.”

“When you called from the police station and said you didn’t know how long you’d be, nobody had shown up yet. But then . . .” Carolyn shook her head. “That other business . . . ?”

“All settled,” Phyllis told her. “I’ll fill you in on the details later. Right now . . . well, this is Eve’s day.”

Eve certainly appeared to be enjoying it, too. She sat in the big armchair, beaming at the guests and the pile of presents that surrounded her. There had been some talk about how she shouldn’t expect a bridal shower at her age and with numerous marriages in her past, but it was true that she had been living here with Phyllis for several years and didn’t really have all the things she would need to set up housekeeping again. From the looks of it, after today she would.

The house was extravagantly decorated for Christmas because it had been part of the annual Jingle Bell Tour of Homes a couple of weeks earlier. Phyllis and Carolyn had added a few things to celebrate the upcoming wedding, including tables for the gifts covered in blue tablecloths with silver trim. They had decided to go with white roses since the cloths were blue and they looked great in the silver vases. Still, the theme remained overwhelmingly Christmasy. In a couple of days, when Christmas was over, they would take down all those decorations and start getting ready for the wedding, which would take place here on New Year’s Eve.

Eve, Eve, Eve,
Phyllis thought. There was no getting away from it.

“Phyllis!” Eve said, seeming to notice her for the first time. “Come here, dear.”

Phyllis kept the smile on her face as she made her way across the crowded room to Eve, who stood up and hugged her.

“Thank you so much for this,” Eve said. “I know you’ve had a lot of other things on your mind, but despite that you’ve given me the best bridal shower a girl could ever want!”

Phyllis patted her lightly on the back and said, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad we were able to do this for you. We’re all going to miss you once you’ve moved out.”

“And I’m going to miss you, too,” Eve said. She lowered her voice. “I didn’t expect this many people to be here. I put everyone I could think of on the guest list because I thought a lot of them wouldn’t be able to come, what with it being Christmas Eve and all. But it looks like practically everyone showed up!”

“Yes,” Phyllis said, “it does.”

In fact, there were so many ladies in the room that it was starting to seem a little claustrophobic to her, as if they were sucking down all the air and she couldn’t breathe. She knew that feeling was all in her head, but that didn’t make it seem any less real.

“I think I should go out to the kitchen and check on things,” she went on. “You just sit down and have a good time.”

“Thank you, dear.” Eve leaned closer and added, “I owe you. Big time.”

Phyllis waved that off and headed for the kitchen, motioning with a slight movement of her head for Carolyn to follow her.

When they were in the kitchen by themselves, with the door closed, both of them said, “Whew!” at the same time, then laughed at the identical expression.

“Refresh my memory,” Phyllis said quietly. “Did even half of those people out there RSVP to let us know they were coming?”

“They most certainly did not,” Carolyn said. “And it certainly would have helped if they had.”

“But all too typical these days,” Phyllis muttered as she looked at the trays of snacks spread out across the kitchen counters.

There were warm sweet bacon crackers fresh out of the oven, nutty caramel pretzels, and cheddar garlic palmiers. Phyllis knew from the smell in the air that the stuffed mushrooms were warming in the oven. There was a zesty cheese ball softening on a decorative silver plate with a matching knife. And in the refrigerator, waiting to be brought out, was a tray filled with mini curried turkey croissant sandwiches. Enough food to feed an army, as Sam might say, but that was good because they practically had an army in the living room.

The back door opened, and Sam walked into the kitchen. “Hope it’s all right I came around this way,” he said. “I didn’t particularly want to run the gauntlet out there.”

“I don’t blame you,” Phyllis said. She frowned. “I just remembered . . . Weren’t you and Roy supposed to go bowling this afternoon?”

Sam’s eyes widened. He slapped himself lightly on the forehead and said, “D’oh! I forgot all about it, what with catchin’ killers and all.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call him right now and tell him I’m on my way.”

“Yes, that would tend to distract a person,” Carolyn said.

Sam grinned and waved as he went back out the door with his cell phone held to his ear.

“I’m glad Sam and Roy have become friends,” Phyllis said. “I’m sure it’s been tough on him, being in a strange town where he doesn’t have any friends or family.”

“He didn’t put a single person on the guest list for the shower or the wedding,” Carolyn said.

“I know. But he seems to be all right with it. As long as he’s got Eve, I think he’s happy.”

“He should be. She’s a fine woman. He’s lucky to have her.”

Phyllis smiled. Carolyn and Eve had squabbled quite a bit over the years, but Phyllis knew that they really cared for each other. Carolyn could be a little on the prickly side sometimes. It had taken her more than a year to get used to the idea of Sam living in the house.

“What still needs to be done?” Phyllis asked, putting her mind back on the matters at hand.

“The chocolate chocolate chip cupcakes are already on the table along with some cookies and the vegetable and fruit tray, and the punch is in the punch bowl. Eve suggested that we spike it, but I vetoed that. The last thing we want in the living room is a bunch of tipsy teachers.”

Phyllis laughed. She had to agree with that sentiment.

“Everything seems to be under control,” she said. “We’ll wait a while before we bring the rest of the food out. Eve wanted to play some games first and then open presents, so it’ll be a while before anyone’s ready to eat.”

Carolyn’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, if anyone brought any of those perverted gag gifts—”

“I’m sure everyone will be the soul of decorum,” Phyllis said.

Actually, she wasn’t sure of that. The retired teachers, the ones from the generation she and Carolyn and Eve belonged to, were all ladies, raised to observe the proprieties. But some of the younger ones, the ones who were still teaching . . . well, you couldn’t ever be a hundred percent sure of what they might do.

But even so, the last thing she would have expected to hear as she and Carolyn started along the hall toward the living room was voices raised in anger.