I wondered if I would ever be able to figure it out without knowing what was hidden in the fireplace.
Eventually the people from Making Amends finished and gave me a schedule of setup and shooting time. We’d actually have to close the bookstore for two days, but having our name in front of millions of viewers was priceless.
I knew the subject of the show was supposed to be a surprise, but I thought that maybe asking straight out, as if of course I was supposed to know, would make them tell. I pulled over the person who seemed in charge. “I wonder if you’d tell me who the subject of the show is?”
He regarded me with a self-satisfied smile. “Sorry. Nobody but a few insiders know who it is. Who knows, it could even be you.”
Me? It had never occurred to me that I was even a possibility.
BARRY WAS AT MY HOUSE WHEN I WENT HOME. He was working with a contractor for the police department installing my new door. The dogs had been fed, and Barry had fixed the light that wouldn’t turn off. He’d been missing in action for days, but now that we were just friends, he seemed to be crossing my path constantly. Things must be slow homicidewise in the west Valley.
The She La Las had just finished dinner and were looking over their costumes. I felt as though I were invisible since nobody seemed to notice me. It was pointless to try to cook. My mother had ordered in again, so I just helped myself to the Caesar salad and pasta and took it in my crochet room.
Barry stuck his head in the door and then stepped into the room. He did a double take at all the balls and bags of yarn and half-done projects.
“You’re really serious about this hook stuff.” He picked up a partially finished rust-colored afghan and then looked at me with a question in his eyes. “Weren’t you making that for me?”
“It’s almost finished. Just because we’re friends now doesn’t mean I won’t finish it. Friends make afghans for their friends all the time even if they leave out important elements of their lives.” That last part just slipped out.
“Your door is back in place,” he said, ignoring my remark. I noticed his black eye had begun to fade. I held up my plate and showed him the food and told him there was plenty in the kitchen. He didn’t move. “Molly, I can’t do the friends thing. Maybe you should just keep Cosmo for now, until I make some arrangements.” He put the key down on the arm of the chair. “You know where to find me,” he said as he left. A moment later I heard my new front door open and close.
I was still sitting there feeling a little stunned when Dinah called for an update.
“I think we broke up even as friends,” I said.
“You had a problem with Vincent?” she said, surprised.
“No. Barry.” I re-created the whole scenario for her, and she said she wasn’t surprised.
“Men don’t like to be friends, particularly when it’s a step down from what they’ve been. I was really calling about your confab with my student, who by the way tried to use his being helpful as a way to get to take the midterm test he missed.”
“Obviously, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.” I repeated what he’d said about Mary Beth fighting with her sister and how I wished I knew what they fought about. “Vincent was no help. He said to talk to Matt Wells, which is exactly what I intend to do tomorrow.”
“Not a bad assignment. And who knows what else may come of it. Now that you’re single again,” Dinah said, “the world is your man buffet.”
“Single again. You make it sound like Barry and I were married. We were just seeing each other.”
“If you’re not seeing someone, you’re considered single in the current lingo,” Dinah said.
“What about Mason?” I said.
“I thought you wanted to keep it to a casual dinner now and then,” Dinah said.
“Well, yeah . . . It is, well, it was. It’s just that . . .”
“What did you leave out?” Dinah repeated, her voice lighting up with interest.
“Nothing. It’s about his good night kiss . . .”
“Cheek or lips? You never said,” she said with interest.
“Lips and everything else. It was definitely not a casual kiss. Believe me my only interest in meeting Matt Wells is for information.”
Dinah had to get back to grading papers and made me promise to report back to her if I found out anything new.
“I thought of something odd,” I said, just before hanging up. “Whoever killed Mary Beth had to know she really liked marzipan. If you’re going to lace something with poison, you want to be sure the person will eat it. I wouldn’t have eaten any of those almond paste apples sent to me even if I hadn’t thought they might be laced with something. Marzipan isn’t like chocolate. The killer had to know that she not only liked marzipan, but that she loved it enough to guarantee she would eat the candy apples.”
“Good thinking,” Dinah said. “It sounds like the kind of information a sister would have. By the way, I checked your box of marzipan yesterday and it was full of ants.”
“Dead or alive?” I said feeling my stomach tense.
“The little buggers were very much alive. Can I throw the package away now?”
“Then I was right. The gift was just for shock value. Someone wanted to scare me off the case. I’m glad I didn’t show it to Detective Heather.” I paused for a moment picturing the ants having a field day on the red candy apples. “You better hang onto it for now. Put it in your garage.”
CHAPTER 20
VINCENT HAD SAID MATT WELLS ATE BREAKFAST at Le Grande Fromage every morning, but only after I’d left did I realize he hadn’t mentioned a time. I had gone over several possible ways to meet him but had finally decided it would be best to let him arrive first. Then I could casually come up to him.
As a result, the next morning I found myself sitting in the parking lot that served the whole bank of stores, watching every car that drove in. The problem with my car, the greenmobile, was that it stood out. In my peripheral vision, I noticed a black Crown Victoria slide into the spot next to me. I slumped down lower in the seat, willing myself to become invisible. No such luck. There was a knock at the window.
I turned the key so I could open the window. Barry leaned in. A whiff of his cologne blew in with the breeze. His shirt was crisp and he was cleanly shaven. I did my best to ignore how good he looked.
“Loitering isn’t allowed,” he said, pointing to a sign on the wall of the building that warned cars could be towed for various reasons.
I started to protest that I’d just gotten there, but he tossed it off with a dismissive shake of his head. “This is the second time I’ve been by. I know you’ve been sitting here for a while. What are you up to now?”
I was going to make some excuse, but just then I saw a black Jaguar pull in and Matt Wells get out.
“I’ve got to go. I’m meeting someone,” I said. Barry followed my gaze.
“The dancer?” he said with a combination of surprise and irritation.
A few minutes later I walked in the front door of Le Grande Fromage. I had taken my time shutting the window and getting out of the car to give Matt time to get inside the café. Barry had stood next to his car watching me. He started to say something several times but then finally got back in his car, muttering something about poor judgement.