Newlywed Dead (16 page)

Finally it was mochi-filling time. I laughed at how particular Gage was at plopping the ice cream into the mochi wrapper and closing it back up into perfect balls.

“Aren't you going to try?” he asked.

I sipped my wine and smiled. “I think you're doing just fine all on your own.”

Next we made the main course and finally we plated our meals and took them out to the empty dining room. I
winced when I heard laughter come from the other dining room and hurried to turn up the music on our side.

“What's going on over there?” Monica asked, and looked toward the closed door.

“Angela's assistant is hosting a cocktail party,” I said.

“Huh,” Monica said.

I glanced at Jen, who gave me a narrow-eyed look. I refused to sweat. This was a surprise and it was going to work. The music changed to Laura and Monica's song.

“Oh,” Monica said, and turned to Laura. “It's our song.”

At the mention of their song, Laura pulled the ring box out of her apron pocket and got down on one knee. “I know,” Laura said. “Monica, you are the love of my life. Without you, I'm incomplete.”

The room was quiet as Monica covered her mouth with her hand in surprise.

“Monica,” Laura said. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Yes,” Monica said with tears in her eyes. “Oh, yes!”

I reached over and took the wineglass out of her hand. Laura placed the ring on Monica's finger and they embraced. Tears filled my eyes as they kissed. Tears of joy ran down both their cheeks. I waved for Sandra to open the doors. She did and Laura and Monica's friends and family streamed over to congratulate them.

The house was filled with laughter and congratulations. Both dining rooms were opened and the staff quickly filled tables in the foyer with buffet foods that included our plated
selections. Lines were formed and everyone grabbed a plate.

“Wow,” Amelia said as she sidled up to me. “I did not see that coming. Was this one of your events?”

“Yes,” I said. “I think it went well.”

“Oh, it was very romantic,” Amelia said, her brown gaze sparkling. “Thanks for letting me be a part of their special day.”

“Amelia,” Toby called. “I think your vegetable rolls turned out very good.”

Amelia glanced at me. “Thanks for introducing me to Toby. He's cute.” She went over to spend time with her date. I watched them for a moment and then turned to my date.

“Your mochi is wonderful,” I told Gage as I bit into the ice cream delight.

“I happen to be a good cook,” Gage said, and raised his right eyebrow as if waiting for me to dispute that. I didn't.

“You're going to make some girl very happy someday,” I said, teasing.

“Let's hope someday soon,” Gage said, and the look he gave me made my heartbeat speed up.

“Well, this was a lot of fun,” Jen said as she and Brad moved toward us. “She certainly looked surprised.”

“Yes, she did,” Gage agreed.

“It was a very nice, low-key moment,” Brad said.

Just then, Laura and Monica caught the crowd's attention by clinking a spoon to their wineglasses. “Everyone's attention, please,” Laura said. “I wanted to take a moment and thank Pepper Pomeroy of Perfect Proposals for putting
together this memorable evening. Here's to Pepper and many more perfect proposals.” She raised her glass and everyone said, “Hear, hear.”

I blushed and lifted my wineglass to the toast and took a sip.

“They do look happy,” Jen said. “You did a great job. But next time I hope there's more bling. I do like loud, splashy sparkle. Not exactly what you did here.”

“Bling was not what was best for this couple,” I said. “You need to come to a few more of my proposals and you'll see how I tailor each event to the particular couple's needs.”

“It's a date,” Brad said with a smile as he collected their coats. “Flashy or not, I had a great time learning how to make Asian food. Thanks, Pepper.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “It was great meeting your friends.”

“See you next time,” I said. “In the meantime, Jen, think about what you liked and didn't like about tonight. E-mail me suggestions. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jen said. She put on her coat and gave me a hug. She held out her hand to Gage. “Bye, Gage. It was nice to meet you.”

“Have a good night,” Gage said as the couple went out the door. They were soon followed by the Dixons, who told me they had a great time watching me in action.

“I let Chef Angela know we'll be back for more classes,” Bob Dixon said. “Even if I have to pay.”

“Don't forget to tell your friends about the proposal,” I said. “You never know when someone's kids might want to plan a perfect proposal.” I pressed my card into their hands.

They left with smiles on their faces. Next Toby and Amelia stepped up. They were both wearing their coats.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Amelia said.

“Are you two leaving?” I asked, looking from one to the other. “Amelia, do you need a ride?”

“I'll see she gets home,” Toby said. He gave me a nod. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Night, folks,” Gage said. We watched them walk out the door. “Well, looks like you might have made a successful match.”

“That would be nice,” I said. “I wasn't sure. Toby's a bit . . . unusual.”

“Amelia didn't seem to have a problem with it. Did you notice they were both wearing skateboarder athletic shoes?”

“I did,” I said, and wiggled my eyebrows. “If I say so myself, this date was a stroke of sheer genius. When I ran into Amelia a couple of days ago I noticed she wore skater shoes. I took the chance and told her about Toby and asked if she wanted a blind date. I promised we'd be here to double and she said, ‘Why not?'” I laughed. “Let's hope it works or I might be in hot water with both friends.”

“Matchmaking is not for the faint of heart,” Gage said with a laugh. He looked at Laura and Monica. The two women glowed brighter than the diamond that sparkled on Monica's finger. “Looks like this is going to be a very happy marriage.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

That night I had a dream that Ashley stood at the bottom of my bed looking at me. I swear there was an expression on her face that said she was counting on me to figure out who killed her. I sat up straight with a gasp. A quick look at the clock told me it was five
A.M
. I turned on the bedroom light to dispel the unease I still felt from my dream. I put my head back down on my pillow but couldn't sleep, so I got up. After making coffee, I turned on my computer and brought up the file I had on my persons of interest in Ashley's case. It was a list of people at the reception who were also country club members. I was certain none of my relatives had a reason to see Ashley gone.

I opened my search engine and entered Mrs. Fulcrum's name. There were a couple of local news articles on the
woman. She came from Chicago high society, which meant big money. Her father was in advertising and made a killing in the fifties and sixties. Her grandfather was an architect and real estate magnate. Her great-grandfather started the family fortunes with a department store that went nationwide. Mrs. Fulcrum herself married into money as well, doubling the size of her son Clark's fortune before he was even born.

That said, she wasn't simply a lady who shopped and went to lunch with her friends. She was an active alumnus of Morduray College. There was also an article about her volunteer activities in her church and another article about her holding the honor of being named person of the year by the Chicago Ladies Auxiliary Club. Twice. There was an article about her influence in Chicago social circles and another one on her tireless work with homeless children. According to the papers, Mrs. Fulcrum was a saint. I sighed and looked at the information I wrote in her file. Maybe Gage was right. Maybe I was barking up the wrong tree with my suspicions.

I forged on and did a search of Mrs. Thomson, Samantha Lyn's mom. She wasn't quite as pedigreed as Mrs. Fulcrum. Mrs. Thomson was a local girl whose parents were university professors. She met and married Rick Thomson in 1984. Rick's family ran a successful brokerage firm, elevating Josie to the ranks of Chicago society. The couple had two boys and a girl, Samantha Lyn. Josie was a member of a handful of exclusive clubs and had
earned her reputation as a person of note by serving on committees and boards in the clubs. Her eldest son, Richard Junior, had married well, bringing money and prestige to the family. Her middle boy, Theodore, was currently at Berkeley Law and a member of the prestigious fraternity Delta Epsilon. It was pretty clear that Josie Thomson was salivating over a match with the Fulcrum fortune.

I could understand Mrs. Thomson's hurry for the kids to marry, but why would Mrs. Fulcrum want Clark to marry Samantha Lyn? The best I could tell, Clark was a bit of a ne'er-do-well. Mrs. Fulcrum had to be looking for a girl who could attract Clark's attention and yet had a head on her shoulders. After all, it was Clark's wife who would ensure there was a fortune left for Mrs. Fulcrum's grandchildren. Samantha Lyn had graduated at the top of her class at a private girl's academy. She was in her first year of college when she met Clark. After her freshman year, she hadn't returned to school. I could only guess that it was because her east coast school was too far from Clark, who had dropped out halfway through his freshman year and was currently working in his father's office in Chicago. It was pretty clear that the two older women were set on making this match, regardless of what was right for Clark and Samantha Lyn. There was little I could do to convince them otherwise. After all, as Samantha Lyn had said, “It was a complicated situation.”

But was it complicated enough for murder? As far as I could tell, while they both had means, neither lady had
a good motive to kill Ashley. Not even by accident. Except for the fact that Clark had complained that Ashley had done her job and refused to serve alcohol to a minor. I sighed and studied the computer. There wasn't a whole lot left for me to dig up. I shut it down and got dressed. There had to be another angle I was missing.

Maybe Detective Murphy knew something that would help in my search. I pulled on navy blue wool dress pants and a pressed, long-sleeved pale blue blouse. I did my makeup in my usual minimalistic yet businesslike way. Then I ran a comb through my wayward red hair, slapped on some lipstick, and headed off to the police station.

If there was one thing I had learned about Detective Murphy, it was that he rarely gave up any secrets on the phone. If I was going to find out anything further, I would have to face the lion in his den.

The snow had stopped shortly before Gage had finished shoveling my driveway after dinner the other night, so the drive remained clear. I pulled Old Blue out of the garage and noticed Mrs. Crivitz peering out her dining room window. I waved her a good morning as I closed and locked the garage then headed back into Old Blue. The big Buick warmed up fast and had heated seats—something that was needed in cold Chicagoland.

My cell phone rang as I pulled into a coffee shop parking lot. I parked the car and dug through my purse. I managed to answer the phone before it went to voice mail.

“Perfect Proposals, this is Pepper. How can I help you?”

“Pepper, it's Toby,” he said. “I told you I would call.”

“Right,” I said, and glanced at my watch. “Thanks for being part of the proposal last night. Did you have fun with Amelia?”

“Yes,” he said. “She is very pretty.”

“I thought you two might have something in common . . . well, besides me,” I said with a laugh. “Do you?”

“We do,” he said. “She reminds me of you in many ways.”

“Thanks,” I said, and tried not to overthink that comment. “Good. Listen, I was wondering if you would help me with another proposal?”

“Sure,” he said. “What do you need me to do?”

“You remember Brad and Jen from last night?”

“The couple that had never cooked before?”

“What?”

“They had never cooked before,” Toby said. “I believe I'm wealthier and I still learned to cook. So I found it strange that neither had cooked before.”

“I think they were pretending for the class,” I said.

“No, they really didn't know a wok from a saucepan,” he said. “Thankfully Amelia at least knew that much.”

“Amelia is a good cook. You should have her make you dinner sometime,” I suggested.

“She said the same thing,” he said. “So what are you planning?”

“Brad and Jen are the couple you suggested I involve in a few of my proposal events.”

“Ah,” Toby said. “The ones I suggested you plan a
proposal for me as a dummy for theirs? You really shouldn't have introduced me to them if you wanted me to pretend to be a client.”

“What I would like is for you to call Brad and set up a meeting for the night of the next proposal event. That way, Jen won't think I'm preparing her event because Brad can't come.”

“Alright,” he said. “I think that makes sense.”

“Thank you,” I said, and quickly rattled off the when and where of the event.

“And what about Amelia?” he asked. “Will she be at this next proposal?”

I stopped short at the unexpected question. “I can ask her if you want me to,” I said. “But really this would be a great reason to call her. Tell her what you are doing and have her help you with Brad. Maybe she could be an associate at the meeting. I'm sure you could think of something.”

“Right,” he said. “It would be better if you invite her to the proposal event and I meet her there, don't you think?”

“No, I don't think,” I said.

“Fine, I'll have my secretary call her and set up the meeting with Brad and Amelia,” he said.

“No,” I said as gently as I could. “If you are interested in Amelia as a date, you need to call her yourself.”

“Fine,” he said. “I'll call Amelia and have my secretary set up a meeting with this Brad person at the time and place you requested.”

“Thanks, Toby, I knew I could count on you,” I said.

“You might want to send my secretary an e-mail to remind me of this commitment,” he said. “And send her Amelia's contact information.”

“Toby,” I warned.

“I'll call her,” he said. “I need you to send Francine the information so she can put it in my digital database.”

“Okay,” I said. “I've got to go. Thanks for doing this.”

“Any time, Pepper,” he said. “Your business is fun in a cloak and dagger sort of way.”

I tapped into my cell phone as we talked. “I've texted Francine the details and Amelia's contact information. See you soon, Toby.”

“Always a pleasure, Pepper.”

I hung up the phone and stepped out into the frigid air to pick up coffee for Detective Murphy. It was always a sure bet that I would get in to see him if I brought coffee. I added a few lattes and a box of scones to my order for the rest of the guys at the station to fight over.

“Well, good morning,” Detective Murphy said as I handed him his coffee.

“Peppermint mocha, triple shot with extra whip,” I said, and then handed him a smaller bag. “Plus two cinnamon scones.”

“You are my best friend ever,” he said with a grin and sipped the coffee, then dove into the bag of scones.

I sat in the small plastic chair across from his desk and watched him attack his snack. “Are you on a diet or something?”

“My doctor insists. I told her it was foolish, what with the holidays approaching,” he said between bites of scone. “She set me up to see a nutritionist. They want me to eat egg whites scrambled with no salt and dry whole wheat toast in the morning. I think they're secretly trying to kill me.”

“I won't tell,” I said. “But my dad had the same thing happen last year.”

Detective Murphy made a face. “They called my daughter and now she's on my case about the diet.”

“Then definitely don't tell her that I brought you a snack,” I said. “I don't want her to give me the evil eye.”

“Don't worry,” he said with a grin as he dug out the second scone. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good,” I said, and smiled. “How are you? Mrs. Crivitz was asking after you.”

“What? Why?” He stopped eating and looked a little pale.

I grinned. “She thinks you and her Mary Ellen would make a lovely couple. So romantic,” I mimicked her. “The handsome detective marrying the girl next door.”

“Ugh.” He dropped the scone. “The last thing I need is to be set up with Mary Ellen. Have you seen her?”

I giggled. “But she's perfect for you.”

“Right.”

“Speaking of perfect,” I segued not too subtly. “How's Emily?”

“She's good. I talked to her last night,” he said, and wiped the sugar off his hands with a napkin. “I got to thinking about what you said.”

“What did I say?” I asked, and sipped my coffee.

“That I had to let her live her life. I think you're right. I can get a little too . . . involved.”

“You're her father. That's what you do,” I said, and let him off the hook.

“Yeah, well, I called Emily and I promised that if she moved back I'd give her space . . . no strings attached. I'll be there for her when she wants and keep my distance when she needs me to.” He leaned back and sipped his coffee.

“Good for you,” I said.

“I even went so far as to tell her she could bring her loser boyfriend if she wanted to.”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“No, I didn't use the word
loser
,” he said and blew out a long breath. “I said boyfriend. And I told her I'd welcome any friend of hers with open arms. Anyway, Emily was happy.” He looked at me, his dark eyes shining. “I haven't heard her sound so happy in a long time. In fact she actually cried and thanked me.” He cleared his throat. “It got me a bit choked up.”

“I see that. Good for you both.”

“No word on whether she'll come or not, but I put it out there and she appreciated the effort.”

“I'm glad,” I said.

“You didn't come here to talk about Emily,” he surmised.

“No, I wanted to continue the conversation about Ashley's death,” I admitted, and leaned forward. “It feels all wrong. I have to know. Despite what the autopsy reports
indicate, do you truly believe it was an accidental overdose? Do you really think the case should be closed like the chief says?”

I noticed him wince slightly.

“You don't, do you?” I said, certain I'd read his expression correctly.

“You know I can't work on a case that is officially closed, Pepper,” he said, and looked down at his desk. “I've got plenty of work to do on cases that are active.”

“But we both know this case isn't closed,” I pressed. “Someone killed Ashley, and I'm not going to let a convenient story keep that person from justice. I know that I only had a few conversations with her that night, but she was so easy to like. She was caring and she was fun and she was kind to Samantha Lyn, and let me tell you, that little girl needs someone caring in her life.”