Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (37 page)

Kathy reached for the door, and I stumbled against the dining chair, knocking the sweater to the floor. I picked up the sweater, pilled and missing buttons. "Sorry."

Kathy took the sweater out of my hands and something dropped to the floor. I looked down and furrowed my brow. "Is that a pacifier?"

Kathy scooped the pacifier from the floor and jammed it into the sweater pocket. "Yeah, must’ve brought it home from work."

I nodded. "What do you do?"

"I’m a scrub nurse at Cedars."

I stared at the sweater in her hands, nubby brown with wooden buttons. "I didn’t know they did surgery in the maternity ward."

Kathy balled up the sweater and put it on the seat of the chair. "I don’t work Maternity, I work in the NICU, Natal Infant Care Unit. You’d be surprised how many surgeries are performed on infants these days."

I patted her hand. "Rose would’ve been proud of you, helping all those poor babies."

Kathy opened the door. "Well Scotti, it was good to see you again. I’m glad to know that you came out all right. Unharmed, I mean."

I pointed to the computer parts on the dining table. "Having computer problems? I know a guy if you need help."

Kathy shook her head and said, "My stepson takes care of that for me, thanks."

I nodded. "Stepson?"

She nodded. "I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get ready for work."

Reluctantly, I stepped out to the stoop. I gave her my business card. "If you think of anything else, will you call me?"

Kathy looked at the card and grinned. "You’re a pastry chef?"

I nodded. "Among other things."

"Rose would’ve gotten a kick out of that." She stared at my belly. "When are you due?"

"May." I chuckled. "But I’m not sure they’re going to wait that long."

Kathy rubbed my belly like it was a genie’s bottle. "Twins?" She frowned. "Why are you doing this? Looking into Rose, now? Don’t you have enough to worry about with two kids on the way?"

I cradled my belly. "It’s because of them. I want to tell them what happened to their grandmother."

Kathy scratched her nose. "But you seem to already know. It sounds like you’ve talked to a lot of people besides me, what’s left to find out?"

I rested my hand on her shoulder lightly. "Who killed Rose and why."

Kathy reared back. "Are you joking?"

I held her gaze. "No. It’s no joke."

Kathy shook her head. "Just like Rose, always chasing lost causes, huh?"

I smiled. "Thanks for talking to me, Kathy. Goodbye."

As I walked to my car, she watched me from her stoop. And continued to watch me until I got in the car and pulled away.

For someone who didn’t have anything to tell me about Rose, Kathy had told me an awful lot.

A week after I met Kathy Morrissey, Spencer Atkinson took the witness stand in his own defense. And like he had during the interview with Reznick and Delphino, he maintained his innocence throughout a relentless cross examination. I didn’t plan to watch, but I got sucked into the charade. The cameras were never on the jury members, but I could imagine them nodding their heads sympathetically. Atkinson was an impressive witness. Convincing, yet emotional and even vulnerable. I’ve seen perfectly rational people throw reason out the door for the sake of a good emotional plea.

After two days of testimony, the defense rested. But the case didn’t go to the jury because Assistant D.A. Pembroke announced she had a rebuttal witness. The courtroom erupted, and the judge gaveled the peanut gallery into silence. Attorneys from both sides had a sidebar with the judge and when they stepped back, the judge ruled the rebuttal witness would testify. The witness’s identity, however, was not revealed, because the prosecution successfully argued that due to the vast media attention the witness could be compromised. The judge agreed, and the witness would take the stand on Monday morning. Dan looked fit to be tied, and at that point the cameras cut away.

The pundits and talking heads immediately started speculating their brains out on who the surprise witness was but were obviously clueless. As the trial had gone on, the public had swung in Atkinson’s favor, but the media sharks smelled blood in the water and seemed hopeful that something would upset Atkinson’s boat and set him swimming against the stream.

I imagined how steamed Joe and Dan were and that gave me a small evil pleasure. Based on their reactions I suspected the surprise witness was no surprise to them. I turned off the set and hoped like hell that the surprise witness was William Hyden. A pang of guilt needled me for having approached him. Strictly speaking, I was way out of line. Morally speaking, I was doing the happy dance

My doorbell rang, and I was stunned to see Daniels on my doorstep. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence in my humble home?"

He waltzed in on his big but graceful feet. "Is that any way to talk to your best customer?"

I laughed and walked him into the kitchen, "So it’s my pies you want to see, not me?"

Daniels pulled up a stool at the butcher-block. "Zelda was out of chocolate sour cream cupcakes today, and Davis threatened to rearrange my face if I didn’t get her some." He shrugged. "So naturally, since I have a direct pipeline to the source, here I is."

From the pantry, I grabbed a dozen cupcakes for Davis and a pie for Daniels. "Staying for coffee and pie or is this just a smash and grab?"

Daniels pointed to the coffee maker. "And what kind of pie do you have today?"

Since he obviously wasn’t going to break into his personal pie, I slabbed him a piece of blueberry with a good helping of ice cream on top. He wasted no time in cleaning his plate then held it out to me. "More, please?"

I sipped my chamomile tea and shook my head. "Sorry, that last piece is for my husband." I looked at my watch and said, "What’s on your mind Marty?"

Daniels poured himself another cup of coffee and doctored it. "You watched the trial coverage today?"

I nodded. "Yeah, talk about a plot twist, can’t wait for the finale on Monday."

He lasered me with his little blue eyes. "What do you know about it?"

I shrugged. "Just what I saw on TV. I haven’t worked on the case for while. And off the record, I don’t give a shit if he rots in jail for the rest of his life."

Daniels nodded. "Yeah, that’s what Zee said." He drank his coffee and ruminated for a while. "So who do you think it is?"

I made a face at Daniels and swatted his arm. "If you want to tell me, fine, then tell me. But I’m not going to pry it out of you."

He grinned, "Well, well, well, Scotti Fitzgerald refusing to the take the bait? That’s a first." He slurped down the rest of his coffee, scooped up his goodies and said, "Thank you kindly Mrs. Jordan, that was indeed the pause that refreshes."

I walked him to the front door. "You make sure Davis gets those cupcakes." I elbowed him. "I’m going to call her to make sure she got all twelve of them."

Daniels laughed and gave me a one-armed hug. "You’re a good lady, Scotti. Be sure to tune in Monday for, As the trial turns your stomach." He winked. "You’ll be glad you did."

I waved as he drove off, then went back to the kitchen to start dinner and pull stock. Matt and Zelda walked in as I was stacking pies for them. Zelda helped herself to the rest of the coffee and snagged a chocolate cupcake out of the pantry. "Did Daniels come by?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Matt stacked the dolly while Zelda slumped over her cupcakes at the butcher-block. "I get two cupcakes when I’m done, right Scotti?"

I rolled my eyes. "You can have as many cupcakes as you want, Matt. Just be ready to face the mob if there aren’t any left for the customers."

I caught up Zelda on Rose’s case while Matt stocked the truck. She wagged a chocolate covered finger at me. "You’ve been a busy little bee. Why didn’t you ask me to help?"

"When? Between the truck and that stupid website you’ve been pretty scarce." I handed her a napkin. "I’ve got it under control."

She stared at the kitchen door for a minute. "Oh, so it’s all out in the open now? You’ve told Teddy boy everything?"

I shook my head. "Not everything." I blew out a sigh. "I need more evidence first."

Zelda scowled. "Evidence?" She grabbed my arm and stared me down. "You be careful. It’s not just your ass you’re putting on the line anymore. You run around getting people stirred up, there’ll be shit to pay."

I pried my arm loose and frowned. "I am being careful." She raised a doubting eyebrow. "I’m just talking to people. How dangerous is that? Lighten up, Zee." I nudged her. "Once Atkinson is over you can ride shotgun, okay?"

She gagged herself. "Amen to that." She stuck out her lip. "But I miss working with my partner. When are you going to quit pouting and make nice with Joe?"

I slid off my stool and pulled four containers from the freezer. Sliding two of the containers across to her I said, "I made a bunch of chili last night. This is for you and Eric.

Zelda eyed the other containers. "Who are those for?"

"Matt."

Matt overheard us and said, "Awesome, chili and cupcakes."

Zelda smacked me. "So, are you going to make up with Joe or not?"

"Have you asked Joe if he’s going to make up with me?" I waved a hand. "Never mind, don’t answer that." I ducked into my office and grabbed Rose’s video cassette tape and gave it to Zelda. "Will you ask Eric to convert this to a DVD? It’s from my mom’s stuff. I know it’s old but if there’s anything on it, I’d like to see it."

Zelda put the cassette on top of the chili containers. "Sure. I’ll get him to play around with it tonight."

I smiled. "Thanks Zee. See you at the baby shower on Sunday?"

Zelda whispered. "Remember what I said. Be cool." Then she stepped back. "Okay, Sunday at two. Be there or be square."

Ted stood in the kitchen doorway. "Be where?"

"You’re home early."

Ted came into the kitchen and kissed my cheek. "Just keeping my eye on you."

"We’re talking about the shower on Sunday. Please tell me that Melinda hasn’t hired a marching band or acrobats."

Ted tweaked my nose. "It’s only because she loves you, honey."

Zelda rolled her eyes. "I’ve seen this comedy act before, so we’ll catch you later."

Matt grabbed his chili and cupcakes and followed Zelda out.

Ted poured both of us a glass of milk, dumped some cookies on a platter and put it on the butcher-block.

"Why are you really home so early?"

He smiled and rubbed my shoulders. "New schedule as of today. Since you’re getting closer to D-Day we worked it out so I’m home by four every day."

I frowned at my belly. "I’m not even seven months yet. Although if I get much bigger I might split in two."

"Drink your milk."

I drank my milk. "So, now you’ll be home by four? Every day?"

Ted chuckled. "Does that interfere with your plans?"

I nibbled on a cookie. "I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve gotten used to being alone in this dungeon. What am I going to do with a big gorilla underfoot?"

Ted wiggled his eyebrows. "I could join you on all those field trips you’ve been taking."

I remembered that GPS phone app and made a mental note again to uninstall it from my phone. "Always the tracker, eh honey?"

"It’s my husbandly duty."

I stared at Ted then said, "Okay. It’s all in my room, in the closet. Feel free to look it over." I stood and opened the fridge. "I’m making dinner."

Ted did a double take. "You’re just handing it over? No more secrets?"

I shook my head. "It’s not about secrets, it was just about me trying to make sense of things for myself first." I closed the fridge and looked at him. "Turns out I could use a second opinion."

Ted stood and bear-hugged me. "How pissed would you be if I told you I’ve already looked it over?" I glowered at him, and he jumped back. "That pissed, huh?"

I sucked in my lips and took a couple of deep breaths. "I could point out that there are a lot of things about your past that you wouldn’t tell me. And that I respected your wishes and stopped pushing. And that I never poked into your private stuff behind your back to look for the answers to my questions."

Ted frowned. "Yeah, I guess you could."

I held up a hand. "But since we’re married now and you’re obsessed with protecting me, I shouldn’t be surprised." I opened the fridge again and pulled out the leftover lasagna. "So, what’s your take on it?"

Ted put his butt on a stool and gave me a coy smile. "There are a lot of missing pieces. And I couldn’t find your notes." He shrugged, "So?"

I rolled my eyes. "Notebook — in the bottom drawer of the dresser, inside the black sweater."

Ted was out of his seat and down the hall before I finished the sentence. While I made dinner, he pored over my notes at the butcher-block. He pored over them while we ate. He pored over them while I cleaned up. Finally he finished. "Well?"

He shook his head and grinned at me. "You’ve been pretty busy wife. When’d you do all this?"