Fatally Frosted (19 page)

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Authors: Jessica Beck

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth

BOOK: Fatally Frosted
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“What, you can’t have popcorn in real life?” she asked.

We didn’t have long to wait. Less than ten minutes after he’d entered, we saw Chief Martin leave. This time, he didn’t even glance in our direction as he got back into his patrol car alone.

“I wonder what that’s all about?” I asked.

At that moment, Gabby walked outside, waved to the chief, and then ducked into the cruiser with him.

Grace came back to the door and saw them leave together. “What did I miss?”

“Gabby took off with him in the patrol car.”

“He arrested her?” Grace asked, her voice growing suddenly louder.

I shook my head. “It didn’t look like that to me. She appeared to go with him of her own free will.”

As I reached for my telephone, Grace asked, “Who are you going to call?”

“I’m giving George a call to see if he can find out what’s going on.”

“He’s talking to Burt, remember?” she reminded me as we got into her car.

I nodded as I slid my telephone back into my purse. “Actually, I forgot all about that. What are we going to do now?”

“We need to visit Patty Cakes,” she said.

“Pull over and let me out then. You don’t even have to come to a full stop. Just slow down enough so I can jump out.”

Grace looked at me a second and said, “Don’t be such a baby.”

“This is going to be a nightmare. Janice Deal hates me,” I said. “She’s not going to tell me anything.”

“Just charm her like you always do, Suzanne.”

“I won’t do it,” I said.

She put the car into
PARK
, and said, “It’s too late. We’re already here.”

I looked up and realized we were in front of Janice’s cake shop. I wasn’t sure the woman would throw a bucket of water on me if I was on fire, but I didn’t have much choice. I had to find out what she knew about Peg Masterson’s odd behavior just before she died, even if it meant I had to eat a healthy dose of crow to get any information out of her.

At least I didn’t have to eat any of her cake.

“What are you doing here?” Janice asked as Grace and I walked into the cake shop.

“I felt bad about the way we left things,” I lied. “It’s no excuse, but I’m under a great deal of stress right now, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

She stared hard at me for a full ten seconds, then asked, “Does that mean you were lying about my cakes being bad?”

Oh, no. She wasn’t going to make me eat one, was she? I wanted to find Peg Masterson’s killer, but did I want to find out that badly? I hoped it didn’t come to that.

“They’re delightful,” I said, barely able to choke out the words. If I were Pinocchio, my nose would have grown all the way out the door by now.

“I forgive you, then,” Janice said. “After all, it takes a bigger person to forgive someone than it does to ask for forgiveness. I don’t mind being the bigger person.”

I couldn’t take any more of that, no matter how
important it was that I get on good terms with Janice Deal again.

I started to say something when Grace stepped in. “We’re both just so concerned about poor Peg. It’s tragic, isn’t it?”

“It’s certainly unfortunate,” Janice said, being careful not to commit one way or the other.

Grace went on, “We just spoke with Gabby Williams, and she told us about the dilemma you had trying to help her run the kitchen tour.”

“I’m the vice chairperson,” Janice said indignantly. “I should have had something to do besides signing checks.”

“You’ll have to do everything now, won’t you?” I asked.

“Someone has to,” she said. “We can’t afford to cancel the next three weekends or we’ll have to refund everyone’s ticket, and there’s not enough money in our account to pay people back.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“These things always have expenses, the way Peg explained it to me. There are ads that have to be placed, flyers need to be made up, lots of things like that. You wouldn’t think so, but it can really add up.”

I had to bite my lip to keep my smart comments to myself, and when I thought I could do that, I asked, “Did you write many checks for the event?”

“Several,” she admitted. “Some of them were for cash, too. Peg explained that a lot of the folks she dealt with preferred it that way.”

“Could we possibly see the checkbook for the committee?” Grace asked.

“I’m not sure I should,” Janice said. “It’s really none of your business.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We just thought we might be able to help you stay out of jail, but it’s probably better to let the chief of police look at it first. Let’s go, Grace, she doesn’t need our help after all.”

Janice moved in front of the door, blocking our escape. “What are you two talking about?”

I said, “We really won’t know for sure until we see the books, but did Peg bring you receipts for the money she spent?”

“She told me it wasn’t necessary,” Janice said a little uneasily.

“Then you don’t have any proof where the money’s actually gone, do you?”

“A bit of it,” Janice said as her frown became full blown. “Peg told me it was the way things were run, and I didn’t have any reason not to believe her.”

I said, “Do you happen to know who Peg used as a vice chairman before you took over the job?”

“Marge Rankin used to do it, until they had a falling out about something,” Janice said. “Hang on a second. I’ll go get the committee checkbook.”

She ducked into the back room, and I asked Grace, “What do you make of this? It sounds fishy to me.”

“Who takes cash for advertisements and flyers?” she asked. “I want to see the legitimate checks she wrote. That way we can see what’s missing.”

I walked to the window and pulled a flyer off the glass. “This isn’t exactly state of the art, is it? It’s not even in color, so it probably cost her a few pennies a copy.”

“Then let’s see how much she spent.”

“Here you go,” Janice said as she handed me the checkbook. I turned to the recording section and started scanning the withdrawals, keeping a running tab of checks made out to cash, and ones to legitimate suppliers.

Something odd struck me right off the bat. “There aren’t that many checks made out to cash here, Janice.”

“Peg said that it might look odd to the committee if we did too many of those, so she had me make most of them out to Party Enterprises Galore. That’s a company of hers, and she said she could get us things at cost if we used her side business.”

I looked at Grace and smiled. “I’m willing to bet all the checks read ‘P.E.G.’ I bet she thought she was hilarious.”

As Grace took the checkbook from me, Janice asked, “Do you two honestly think I did something wrong?”

I wanted to tell her that she’d helped Peg swindle a charity by funneling money into a private account, but she looked so distraught I didn’t have the heart to. “Someone else will have to sort it all out.”

“You should call the chief right now and tell him everything you just told us,” Grace said.

“Do I really have to? That man doesn’t like me.”

I said, “Grace is right. He needs to know. It could have been the reason Peg was killed.”

“I didn’t do it,” Janice said fiercely.

“That’s why you need to bring this to the police. They’ll have an easier time believing you if you’re the one who points this out to them.”

“You two wouldn’t hang around and stay with me, would you?” There was a look of abject terror in her eyes, and I wanted to agree, despite how I felt about the woman.

Grace surprised me, though. “We can’t. It will look like we knew about it too, and the chief is already suspicious of Suzanne. She can’t afford any more scrutiny, and if I stayed with you, they’d link it to her as well. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to do this on your own.”

Grace handed the checkbook back to Janice, then said, “Let’s go,” to me.

Once we were outside, I said, “It’s kind of harsh, leaving her to face Martin all by herself.”

“I don’t have any sympathy for her,” Grace said as she got into her car. “She was stupid and foolish writing those checks, and she’s going to have to answer for her behavior.”

I nodded. “You’re right, but I still can’t help feeling a little bad for her.”

“Suzanne, that’s your problem sometimes. Your heart is bigger than your brain. Can you imagine it? Peg had the audacity to steal from the fundraiser, and Janice just went along with it.”

“Why would she steal from charity, when she had so much money of her own?” I asked. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe she had some sort of compulsion,” Grace said.

I considered that possibility for a moment, then said, “I wonder if that’s why Peg and Marge had a fight. She could have figured out what Peg was up to, but that begs one question, doesn’t it?”

“Why didn’t she turn her in,” Grace said. “Unless.”

I stopped and looked at Grace. “Unless what?”

“Is there a chance Marge wanted in on the scam herself?”

“It’s possible,” I answered.

“I thought she was rich in her own right,” Grace said.

“Take one look at her kitchen remodel, and you’ll get your answer. It must have cost her a fortune. And I’m beginning to wonder if she told me the truth about the house staging, or if it was just a way to cover for all of the expensive furnishings she’s been buying lately.”

Grace nodded. “But the question is, whose money paid for everything? Where does this leave us?”

I chewed my lower lip, then said, “It appears that Peg was skimming from the contributions, unless this P.E.G. was legitimate, which we both doubt. Over the years, she’s headed every fundraiser in three counties. That’s a golden opportunity to skim, especially if she was able to find naïve treasurers every time.”

“You can bet she insisted on it,” Grace said.

“But I still don’t get why she’d risk everything for what must have been petty cash for her.”

“I think we need to dig deeper into Peg and Marge’s finances,” Grace said.

“That’s an excellent idea. I’m just not sure how we can manage to do that.”

“Give me a little time to think about it,” she said.

We pulled up in front of the donut shop, and Grace shut off the engine. “Maybe when the chief
sees that checkbook ledger, he’ll at least leave you alone.”

“I highly doubt it,” I said. “I’m just hoping it’s enough for Jake to take me off his list suspects.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

I got out of the car and looked in through the open door. “He had a family emergency, so he’s back in Raleigh.”

“I hope everything’s okay.”

I started to close the door, then said, “Me, too. Thanks for coming with me this afternoon.”

Grace smiled at me as she started her car up again. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed it. Now don’t go snooping any more without me, okay? I don’t want to be left out of this.”

“Trust me, if I need a sidekick, you’re the first name on my list.”

“I’d better be the only name,” she said as she drove off.

I thought about calling George to tell him what Grace and I had uncovered, but it was getting close to five, and I was hungry, and more than a little sleepy. With my hours, I didn’t have the luxury of time in the evening that everyone else had. I had to start winding down early, or I’d suffer for it the next day.

I got into my Jeep and drove the three blocks toward home, a part of me wishing I could walk through the park instead of travel down the street, no matter how tired I was. That walk always used to invigorate me. At one time, I’d loved to stroll through the trees along the pathways, taking in my beautiful surroundings, but the park of my youth had been
tainted somewhat by some things that had happened there recently, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look at it with the wide-eyed innocence I’d once felt for the place.

As I parked the Jeep in our driveway and walked up to the porch, I saw Momma sitting out on the swing. She smiled and said, “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

“Scoot over and I’ll join you,” I said.

As she moved over, I took my place beside her. After a few moments of swinging in the breeze, she said, “We don’t do this nearly enough. Shall we have dinner out here tonight? We can set the card table up and dine al fresco.”

“Why not?” I asked. “What are we having?”

“A little of this, a little of that,” she said, and I knew it was leftover night. One night a week, we took everything we’d saved and had a buffet. It might include a bit of lasagna, some meatloaf, part of a chicken pot pie, and whatever else we had on tap. There was no hardship, though. Everything was always delicious.

As I set the table and chairs up on the porch, Momma added a tablecloth and some of our best china.

“Not paper plates?” I asked.

“We never use paper plates, and you know it,” Momma said.

I picked up one of the fine china plates. “We don’t exactly trot these out every day, either. What’s the occasion?”

“We’re alive, autumn is approaching, we have a
roof over our heads and a bountiful supply of food. Is there anything else we need to celebrate?”

“No, ma’am, that all sounds good to me.”

As we ate, I was careful to keep our conversation away from Peg Masterson’s murder, and what I’d been doing with my friends to solve it. Jake’s name didn’t come up, either, nor anything that might vex either one of us. It was as if we’d made a tacit agreement that, if not for more than a moment or two, we were going to forget the world’s problems and focus on enjoying the time we had together. My mother could be the biggest thorn in my side, but evenings like this reminded me that she could be quite charming as well. We were just finishing our meal when I heard my cell phone laughing its summons inside the house.

“Just leave it,” Momma said as she lightly touched my arm.

“I’m sorry, but it could be important,” I said.

“More important than this? I know how much your friends mean to you, but just this once, don’t answer it.”

When I thought about it, there really wasn’t anybody I had to talk to, at least not that instant. I did as she asked and ignored the laughter beckoning me from the other room.

After we finished eating, we cleared the table, and I returned the card table and chairs to the front closet.

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