Death of a Cupcake Queen (12 page)

Chapter 22

“Bruce, for the record I have zero interest in listening to you theorize about anything least of all about what you think happened to Nykki Temple,” Hayley said while fanning her fingers through her recipe files in order to select an appropriate dish for tomorrow's column that she still had to put to bed before leaving the office.

“Come on, Hayley, hear me out. You know you want to,” Bruce said, slurping his fourth cup of coffee in an hour while hovering behind Hayley and peering over her shoulder to get a good look at her computer screen.

Hayley spun around in her office chair and waved an admonishing finger in his face. “Stop trying to sneak a peek at what I'm working on! It's just a Food & Cocktails column. I am not secretly working on my own high school reunion murder story, okay, Bruce? You don't have to worry!”

“With your personal connection, it would make sense for you to try and write the definitive piece, and well, there's really no room for two true crime books on the subject, right?”

“Right, Bruce,” Hayley said, barely acknowledging him with a sideways glance.

“I'm sure you're aware that the whole town is buzzing about who Nykki was hiking with on Dorr Mountain when she allegedly slipped on some loose rocks and fell to her death,” Bruce said, pouring himself another cup of coffee from the machine in the corner while keeping one eye trained on Hayley for her reaction.

Hayley remained non-plussed, barely participating in the conversation. “I've heard rumors.”

“It's more than just rumors. She was with Ivy Foster's husband Nigel.”

“Yes, I may have heard that,” Hayley said, plucking a three by five note card out of the red plastic box that served as her recipe file and placing it down on the desk.

She began typing ingredients into her computer.

“Nobody in their right mind believes her death was an accident,” Bruce said, emptying the coffee pot and setting it back down in the maker.

“Well, luckily it's not up to anybody in their right mind to decide anything. It's up to Sergio and his officers to finish the police investigation so why don't we wait until they tell us what actually happened?”

“Don't be so coy. I know your mind is racing as fast as mine,” Bruce said.

“Bruce, how many times have I told you to take the coffee pot into the kitchen and wash it out when it's empty.”

“I thought that was your job as office manager to clean up after everybody,” Bruce said smugly.

Hayley glared at him so long and hard Bruce flinched, suddenly nervous. He crossed back over and snatched up the empty coffee pot.

“Fine. I'll do it,” he said quietly as he headed back to the kitchenette off the bullpen in the back of the office. He stopped in the doorway. “Admit it, Hayley. You know as well as I do what happened. Nigel murdered his wife Ivy in order to be with Nykki, with whom he was having an affair, right?”

Hayley didn't answer him.

She just continued typing ingredients from her written card into her computer file.

“But then, Nykki, who maybe was aware of the plan to kill Ivy, or better yet, might have even participated in it, suddenly started to feel guilty. Yeah, that's right. Maybe she even wanted to go to the cops!”

Hayley couldn't help but listen to Bruce as much as she tried to make it look like she wasn't even remotely interested in hearing what he had to say. But she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit the same thoughts had already crossed her mind.

Still, she was not about to give Bruce Linney any satisfaction.

“So now Nigel was in a pickle. If Nykki talked to the cops, then he would be arrested and tried for the murder of his wife. But if something happened to Nykki before she had a chance to sing like a bird, then he would be in the clear. That's why he talked her into going on a pleasant hike up Dorr Mountain in the park. It was a beautiful day. The view from up there is spectacular. What a perfect opportunity. She never slipped on any loose rocks! He pushed her! To stop her from exposing what he had done to Ivy! It makes total sense!”

Hayley loathed to agree with Bruce.

It seemed plausible.

But she never blinked.

Never even looked his way.

She would bite off her own tongue before she told Bruce his theory sounded logical.

Why feed his monstrous ego?

It also did not explain Vanda Spears.

Where did she come in?

Did she somehow discover the affair and was blackmailing Nykki?

Was it possible that Vanda walked into the kitchen at the golf club and witnessed Nigel or Nykki or both bludgeon poor Ivy to death?

But Nykki was in the main room most of the night.

Nobody saw her go near the kitchen.

She was with Sabrina the whole time.

And what about Sabrina?

Why was she so spooked by Vanda Spears?

What made her so afraid of a crazy homeless woman?

As much as Bruce's story added it all up, there were still many missing pieces left.

Despite the fact that her own ego was dwarfed by the size of Bruce's, Hayley was still smart enough to know that she would be better and faster than Bruce at finding those key pieces that would finally finish the puzzle.

Chapter 23

“You know, I am never one to gossip especially when it comes to one of Sergio's cases,” Randy said as he sipped his glass of Merlot at Hayley's kitchen table while his sister examined a head of wilted lettuce before tossing it into the garbage can underneath the kitchen sink.

Hayley went back to rummaging through the refrigerator, hoping to find enough ingredients for a side salad to serve with the sandwiches she had ordered from the Well Bread sub shop for the kids' dinner. Not the ideal choice for a healthy home-cooked meal for her growing teenagers, but both had made it clear they weren't hungry.

Besides, every bone in Hayley's body ached from running around all day. She was also still suffering from some nasty purple bruises on her back and thighs from her hard fall onto the pavement after pushing Vanda Spears out of harm's way from Nykki's attempt to run her down in Ivy's rental car.

Hayley waited for her brother to add the all important “but” to his last statement.

Randy savored the wine before swallowing it and then set his glass down on the table. “But . . .”

Music to Hayley's ears.

“I know you were close to Ivy and Nykki so I wouldn't feel right not sharing what I overheard at the police station when I took Sergio some leftover chicken pot pie for his dinner after he called to say he would be working late,” Randy said, scanning the kitchen counter for the open bottle of wine before jumping up and refilling his glass.

Randy, of all people, knew Hayley was never that close to Ivy and Nykki, but she wasn't about to contradict him because she was dying of curiosity to hear his dishy news, and she knew her brother had to come up with a strong reason to share what he knew with Hayley so he wouldn't be overcome with guilt about it later.

“Sergio was in the interrogation room with Ivy Foster's husband Nigel questioning him about what happened to Nykki Temple on top of Dorr Mountain, and the door just happened to be open a crack, and well, I was walking right by with my pot pie because Sergio's office is just down the hall from there, I couldn't help but overhear them talking . . .”

Randy stopped momentarily.

Hayley knew her brother was wrestling with the dilemma of sharing confidential information with a civilian, but she knew in her gut he would sing like a canary because the two of them never kept any secrets from one another.

That's why they were so close.

If past history was any indication, Randy would start spilling the beans in five, four, three, two, one . . .

“Nigel admitted he had an affair with Nykki. They had met through Ivy a couple of times over the past few years, and there was a strong attraction, but Nigel claimed they never acted upon it. It was only after their arrival here in Bar Harbor for the reunion when they could no longer resist their intense desire for one another!”

Randy was also a fan of soap operas so he was overly fond of words like “intense desire.”

And from the amount of black body hair Hayley had found in Nykki's bed at the summer rental house, she knew what was coming next.

“So they did it when Ivy was out buying cupcake ingredients. And kept doing it. Nigel's excuse was that Ivy was treating him so badly and they hadn't had sex in so long that he couldn't help but finally respond to the attention from another woman. But he was guilt-ridden over cheating, especially with one of his wife's closest friends, and Nykki was distraught too. She was haunted by a sense of betrayal.”

“Well, that didn't stop them from having sex after Ivy was murdered,” Hayley said pulling a large wooden bowl from the top of the refrigerator before chopping some cucumbers on her cutting board.

“How do you know that?” Randy asked, swishing his Merlot around in the glass before downing it.

“Let's just say I found a large amount of DNA evidence suggesting they had sex in Nykki's bed after the funeral because Nykki would never go more than two days without changing her sheets,” Hayley said.

“Well, Nigel swears he didn't kill Ivy and he is convinced Nykki had nothing to do with it either.”

“So what happened on Dorr Mountain?”

“Nigel told Sergio that Nykki invited him on the hike so she could break it off once and for all in person. She told him that given the circumstances it would be best if they no longer saw each other. The whole botched affair was a momentary lapse in judgment and that she was not interested in pursuing anything serious.”

“And Nigel agreed?”

“Yes. They both wanted to forget the whole thing and get back to their normal lives. Then, and here is the weird part, she asked him to turn around and head down the mountain while she continued to the top because she was dealing with a problem and needed to think about how she was going to handle it.”

“What kind of problem?”

“She didn't say. And Nigel never asked. He was just relieved the whole sordid fling was behind him and he could move on with his life.”

“Do you think Sergio believed him?”

“I'm not sure. He tends to squint a lot when he's suspicious of a story, but I was out in the hallway and I didn't have a good view of his face. But if you ask me, I would bet he's lying.”

“Why?”

“Because it's almost always the husband. And Ivy was a monster to him, at least according to all the reports from the reunion,” Randy said, upending the bottle of wine over his glass to get every last drop.

Hayley, on the other hand, was a tad more willing to give Nigel the benefit of the doubt since he had come clean about his affair with Nykki.

There was a light tapping on the front door so Hayley stopped chopping her cucumber, wiped her hands on a dish cloth, and headed out the kitchen and down the hall to answer the door.

Oliver, the teenage son of the sub shop owner, stood in the doorway with a white paper bag stuffed with three long deli sandwiches. He was in a tattered Imagine Dragons t-shirt and faded jeans and was wearing a Red Sox cap pulled down so far it shadowed his eyes.

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” Oliver said, a thin smile on his face. “I put in a kosher pickle sliced in quarters for you, on the house.”

“Thanks, Oliver,” Hayley said, taking the bag. “I forgot to add a tip when I paid by credit card over the phone so hold on a second.”

Hayley turned and called upstairs. “Gemma, could you bring down my purse? It's on my bed!”

Hayley had purposely not included a tip when she gave her credit card number to Oliver's father when she placed the order.

She also purposely left her purse on her bed upstairs knowing Gemma would be in her room when Oliver arrived.

It was all part of a calculated well thought out plan.

Randy wandered in from the kitchen with his glass of Merlot to watch the scene just as Gemma pounded down the stairs and tossed the purse to Hayley, who innocently began to fish through the bottom of it for change after handing Gemma the bag of sandwiches.

“Oh, hi, Oliver,” Gemma said.

Oliver raised the cap higher on his forehead revealing a pair of gorgeous green eyes that sparkled at the sight of Gemma.

“Nice to see you, Gemma,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Hayley asked, trying to act surprised.

“We're in the same class,” Gemma said, yanking one of the wrapped subs out of the bag. “Is this the turkey with pepper jack and no mayo?”

Oliver nodded, now at a loss for words.

Or remaining silent so as not to risk his voice cracking again.

“So you must be graduating, too,” Hayley said, handing Oliver a few dollars and some spare quarters.

“Thank you,” Oliver said. “Yes, ma'am. Finally.”

“Must be a busy time for you. Finals. Cap and gown fitting. Prom.”

There was a pregnant pause.

Gemma was still too busy ripping open her sandwich to make sure it was prepared to her specifications to notice what was happening.

“Oh, I'm not going to the prom,” Oliver said casually, stuffing the tip in his jeans pocket.

“Why not? It's a once-in-a-lifetime event. I'm sure someone as handsome and charming as you must have girls lining up to go with you,” Hayley said, eyeing Gemma who was still oblivious to the conversation.

Randy, suddenly aware of Hayley's master plan, finished his wine and folded his arms to see how this matchmaking scene would play out.

“Not really,” Oliver said, embarrassed.

“Gemma, did you hear that? Oliver doesn't have a date for the prom. Isn't that a coincidence?”

Gemma suddenly stopped picking at her sandwich and looked up at her mother. “What?”

Hayley turned to Oliver. “Gemma doesn't have a date either.”

“Mom . . .” Gemma said under her breath, realizing too late what her mother was up to and not having it.

“Oh. I thought you were going with—” Oliver said before Hayley cut him off.

“No. You must have received some bad intel,” Hayley said. “She's totally free that night.”

Oliver stood up straight and tried to deepen his voice to come off more mature and masculine. “Well, if you're not doing anything, would you want to come with me?”

“To the prom?” Gemma asked, incredulous, still not sure how this happened.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, no pressure. It's okay if you don't want to. I just thought if you don't have other plans, you might want to . . . you know . . . come with me?”

It was an excruciatingly long moment.

Had Hayley overplayed her hand?

Would Gemma turn him down flat and then there would be hell to pay for her brazen interference into her daughter's personal life?

Randy was holding his breath waiting for Gemma's answer.

Oliver was pale and swaying from side to side, ready to pass out from nerves.

Gemma just stood there in silence.

It was agonizing for everyone.

Especially Hayley.

And then, with a perky smile on her face, Gemma said, “I'd love to. Thanks, Oliver.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you have your phone?” Gemma asked.

Oliver nodded and handed her his cell. She pressed some keys and handed it back to him. “That's my number. Text me tomorrow and we can work out all the details.”

“Okay. That sounds great. Thanks, Mrs. Powell,” Oliver said, beaming, before glancing at Gemma and catching himself. “I mean, for the generous tip.”

He floated out the door.

Gemma shoved the sandwich back in the bag and handed it to her mother. “I'm going to call Carrie and let her know I'm now going to the prom. As for you, Mother, I will deal with you later.”

She bounded up the stairs.

Wasn't that something a mother was supposed to say to her daughter and not the other way around?

She wasn't going to worry about it.

Yet.

Hayley turned to Randy and smiled. “Now that's how matchmaking is done. And Oliver is straight. Not like
your
guy!”

“Yes, Sis. I bow to your impressive skills. You are by far the superior Dolly Levi!”