Murder Most Finicky (24 page)

Chapter 46

They spent the rest of the ride alternating naps until the conductor called out for those disembarking in New Haven. Stan led Gaston off the train behind Jessie. They walked through the station and out the front door. Marty stood in front of his car, leaning on the hood.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said to Jessie, leaning over to kiss her. Jessie looked uncomfortable at the outward show of affection. Marty didn't look like it bothered him. “Hi, Stan,” he said, leaning over to shake her hand. “Been a while.”

Stan thought Marty was adorable. Part of his appeal, in her opinion, was his regular guy-ness—he liked sports, he liked to take care of his lawn, he fished in the summer and rode snowmobiles in the winter. He worked hard and liked to relax and drink average beer on the weekend and take vacations twice a year. A really good balance for someone like Jessie, not to mention Lily. “It has. How are you, Marty? I'm so sorry to have you up in the middle of the night. Thank you so much for doing this.”

He waved her off. “Anytime. And anything for the love of my life and her friends.”

“Seriously, Thompson?” Jessie said.

Marty grinned. “I love making her squirm,” he said to Stan. “And here's the lucky fella,” he said, bending down to Gaston. “Hi, boy.” He held out his hand and let the dog sniff before he patted his head. “Cutie. So, Stan, you sure you're awake enough to make this drive?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. We slept on the train,” Stan said. “Jessie can fill you in on all the excitement in New York.”

“It's the city that never sleeps,” Marty said.

“This was much more than the typical New York excitement,” Stan said.

“My life never used to be exciting until Stan moved to town,” Jessie said to Marty.

“Hey, there's something to be said for excitement,” Marty said. “Nothing wrong with that. Jess, where's your car?”

“It's in the outside lot. I'll walk Stan over. You can meet me at the gate.”

“Will do. Drive safe, Stan.”

Stan hugged Marty good-bye and she and Jessie walked the block to the parking area, Gaston trotting along happily beside them, tongue hanging. “You sure you're not too tired?” Jessie asked again. “My brother will kill me if you get in an accident.”

“I'm fine. I'll get a coffee. Although not much is open at this hour, is it?” Stan thought about it. She should detour through Frog Ledge. Maybe she could call Izzy to brew her some fabulous coffee. Or she could pop in on the pub's last call. But that was way out of her way. And if she went home, she'd never go back. And she couldn't do that, with Nutty still in Newport. If she stayed on 95, she could make it back in under two hours.
One more day and you can go home.
“I'll find a Dunkin' Donuts somewhere,” she said with a grimace.

Jessie, who was not a coffee person and clearly couldn't adequately compare Dunkin' Donuts and Izzy's organic, bold brew, shrugged as if it made no difference. “I'm sure you'll find something.” She beeped the alarm, and a Volkswagen Tiguan up ahead flashed its lights. “Here's the keys.” She handed Stan her key ring containing her car key, a mini Maglite, and a couple of other keys. Nothing like Stan's, with so many keys and useless key chains that it added three pounds to her purse. “Should be plenty of gas. Don't worry about the dog,” she said, reading Stan's mind. “I have a kid. He's not going to get it any dirtier than she does.”

“Thanks so much, Jessie.” On impulse, Stan hugged her. She didn't know which of them was more surprised.

“Not a problem,” Jessie said. “Call me when you get back. And don't crash.”

“You'll be asleep.”

“Call anyway.”

Stan saluted her. “Will do.”

“I expect we'll hear more about those goons from the bakery,” Jessie said. “The cops might want to follow up.”

Stan shrugged. “I'm used to cops following up these days. Come on, I'll drive you out of the gate.”

She delivered Jessie to Marty and followed them to the highway. Having traveled this route a number of times, she knew her coffee prospects were poor, so she buzzed the windows down and the sunroof open—thank goodness Jessie saw the value of a sunroof—and cranked the radio. Surprisingly, the no-frills Jessie had also sprung for satellite radio. Stan found the eighties station and sang along with her favorite hair bands. She easily jetted past Marty, lifting her hand in a wave through the sunroof. Once they hit cruising altitude, Gaston hanging over the console, eyes on Stan, she turned the radio down and forced her tired mind to process the day. She had to laugh—it had been straight out of the movie
Adventures in Babysitting
from her childhood.

All had ended well tonight, but Stan felt like she still wasn't any closer to the truth. She'd learned a lot of random things. In the category of Side Two of a Three-Sided Story, she had Melanie saying Sheldon's claims about her campaign were outrageous. In the category of Pierre's Dirty Little Secrets, he was involved with some bad people, he'd stalked his ex, and his girlfriend seemed younger than Brenna. But perhaps most interesting was the Vaughn Dawes angle. Why had Joaquin warned her not to come? Did he fear for her life? Did he think she would regret being involved? Did he dislike her? Did he think she was conspiring against Sheldon? She wished she could ask him, but Vaughn had sworn her to secrecy.

Any of these chefs could've killed Pierre. Kyle, for reasons unknown, but given his absentee status, it was believable. Marcin, because he was mentally ill and may have blamed Pierre for his screwed-up life. Leo, because he blamed Pierre for Marcin's screwed-up life. Maria, because she wanted to be Pierre's pet. Sheldon, because of so many things. The motorcycle-riding chef could be a suspect, too. And anyone who wanted Pierre's top-secret recipe notes.

Sheesh. Her head started to hurt, so she focused on her music and sang along to Pat Benatar, Laura Branigan, and Bon Jovi. She drove into the hotel parking lot at nearly two
A.M.
, surprised she'd stayed awake the entire time. “We'll go in the back,” she decided, and drove around to the other door. She parked and grabbed Gaston's leash.

“Okay, dude, here's the deal,” she said to the dog, who turned attentive ears toward her. “I'm going to sneak you inside, and you need to be super quiet. No barking, you hear? And there's a cat, so you better like cats. No chasing him, okay?”

Gaston blinked at her. Stan took that as assent and grabbed her bag. She let him out of the backseat, keeping a close grip on his leash, and led him through the back entrance. Luckily, she didn't bump into any hotel staff before she got in the elevator and pressed the button for her floor with a sigh of relief. She slid the key into the lock and quietly turned it, listening as she pushed it open. No sounds. She closed and locked the door behind her. She headed for the stairs without encountering Therese or Maria. With another relieved sigh, she slipped into her room and locked the door behind her.

“Nutty,” she called softly, looking around, keeping Gaston on a short leash. She really hoped he had no issue with cats.

But Nutty wasn't on his window bed, on her bed, the second bed, or snuggled in the cat bed on the floor. “Nutty?” She checked in the bathroom and under the beds. No Nutty. He could've sensed the dog coming and hidden really well.

But it didn't
feel
like he was here. Where could he have gone? She knew she'd shut the door securely behind her. Unless Maria had taken him into her room? Or brought him downstairs to feed him? She put Gaston in the bathroom just in case Nutty was still in the room and bolted downstairs. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she flicked on lights and checked rooms, calling him. Therese wasn't in the living room, so she checked there, too. Nothing. Desperate and on the verge of tears, she fled to Maria's room and pounded on the door, not caring if she woke her up. If Maria had stolen her cat, she'd have a lot more to worry about than lost sleep.

It took a few poundings before Maria flung the door open. Her Jersey hair was wild and sticking out, and she held a short red bathrobe closed. She glared at Stan out of half-focused eyes. “Have you lost your mind?” she demanded. “Do you know what time—”

“Where's Nutty?” Stan pushed past her into the room, feeling around for the light switch. Her fingers grasped it and she flipped it on, bathing the room in light.

“What do you think you're doing?” Maria grabbed her arm, but Stan didn't fight her. Instead, she stared in amazement at Sheldon, who had just jumped out of Maria's bed.

Sheldon stared back at her with the same amount of amazement. “What on earth . . . Stan? What are you doing up at this hour? What's wrong?”

Other than you in Maria's bed in the middle of the night? That put a whole new spin on things.
“Nutty's missing from my room.” She spun back to Maria. “I know you've taken him out before to give him food. I don't care if you did, I just want to know where he is now.”

“I didn't take Nutty out of your room.” Maria dropped her arm. “Are you sure he's not in there?”

“Positive. He's just gone.” She choked back tears.

“That can't be possible,” Sheldon said.

Stan glared at him. “Well, it is. I went out earlier and the room was shut. I came back and he's gone.”

“When did you come back? It's nearly three in the morning,” Sheldon said, sounding a lot like her dad used to sound.

Stan shot him a look and didn't answer him. “Where's my cat?”

“Honey, honestly, I have no idea,” Maria said. She'd gone from annoyed to worried. “I can help you look.”

“I just looked everywhere.” Stan felt the tears she'd been holding back fill her eyes. “Nutty's my first baby. Nothing can happen to him.”

Maria gave Sheldon a look. “I'm going downstairs with Stan. You should probably go. Stan, you won't mention to the others . . .” She tilted her head toward Sheldon. “I don't want them to think I have an unfair advantage over anything.”

“I don't really care whom you're sleeping with. I want to find Nutty. Now.”

But Sheldon didn't seem like he was ready to go anywhere. “Now, we should all just calm down,” he said.

Stan whirled on him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Calm down? I'll calm down when you find my cat. This entire weekend has been a disaster, to say the least. I've put up with it, gone with the flow, even tried to help. Now someone either let my cat out or stole him. I swear, if I don't get him back . . .” She hiccuped through a sob.

Maria came over and hugged her. “It will be okay, honey. We'll find him. If it's the last thing I do, I'll find him. He's a gorgeous cat. My favorite roomie for the weekend, I'll tell you,” she said with a glare at Sheldon. “Let's leave my door open in case he's out and about. He might come in looking for food. Sheldon, get out.” She pointed to the door. “Stan doesn't want to see your face right now.”

Chapter 47

“Actually, hold on,” Stan said. “I do have something I need to ask Sheldon. A couple of things.” She met his eyes with a steely glare. “Maria, can you give us a second?”

“Of course,” Maria said. She looked hurt, but to her credit she didn't make a stink. “I'll start looking for the baby. I'll get some food out.”

“Thank you,” Stan said.

“No worries, hon.” Maria left the room but didn't shut the door behind her, probably hoping to hear.

Sheldon watched her go, then turned to Stan. He looked apprehensive. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Tell me about your bakery.”

“My bakery?” He smiled, puffing his chest out a bit, his nervousness clearly alleviated. “You know about my bakery. You've been there. It's fabulous.”

“Who's on your staff?”

“You'll meet them tomorrow. Well, later today,” he amended, checking his watch.

“Who are they, Sheldon? Do you really have people? Or are you doing it?”

“I'm doing quite a bit of it, but as you know, I would never have time to do it all. Especially with two stores and the potential for a third.”

“Tell the truth. You don't do it, and you don't have people. People of that caliber, anyway. You got Pierre to do it for you. And you're claiming his work as your own.”

Sheldon's face absolutely drained of color. “What . . . what on earth are you talking about?”

“Don't ‘what on earth' me,” Stan snapped. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's one of the reasons Pierre was angry at you. Admit it.”

“I'll admit no such thing,” Sheldon said indignantly. “Pierre and I were colleagues. As such, we helped each other out—”

“I heard all about it from his girlfriend at his bakery,” Stan said. “About how fulfilling your demands as well as his was getting to be too much for him. It was why he wanted more from you, or wanted to terminate his business with you.”

Sheldon marched past her and slammed Maria's bedroom door. “Fine. Pierre's been sending me pastry. So what? We had an agreement. And if anything, that should tell you that I didn't kill him, if that's what you're still after. I needed him.” He looked disgusted to admit it. “All these years and I've never leaned on anyone, but when I opened the second shop in Boston, I wasn't able to keep up. And good help is hard to come by.”

“So how did you get him to do it?”

“I promised him we'd do a bakery together in Los Angeles. I just didn't promise him when.” Sheldon shrugged. “He became impatient. I tried to explain I didn't have the capital, but he refused to listen.”

“How are you funding all these places?” Stan asked.

Sheldon sighed wearily. “My dear, I'm in debt up to my eyeballs, and then some. That's why this dinner tomorrow—today—is so important.”

“Sheldon.” Stan paced the room. “Take me off your list. I don't need you to fund a pet patisserie in Frog Ledge.”

“Nonsense. You are going to be a household name in just a few short years. The first pet pastry chef to be known around the world! And I discovered you.” He clasped his hands and got that dreamy, Mr. Pastry look again. “I want to be part of that.”

And part of the payout, Stan thought. Well, she had news for Sheldon. After this dinner, she was out. Done. Back to Frog Ledge as a simple, two-woman show. If she needed an investor, she'd ask Jake. That was a partnership she could count on—a low-maintenance one at that.

“This is troubling,” she said. “It's bad enough you've been lying about it and taking credit for Pierre's work, but to keep it quiet under the circumstances is too much, Sheldon.”

“Don't you dare judge me. You have no idea.”

“Oh, I do. I'm going to wager a bet that this whole story about Melanie Diamond and her campaign to destroy you has been greatly exaggerated as well. Hasn't it?” She stared daggers at him until he shifted uncomfortably.

“Maybe slightly, but only because I haven't experienced it yet. That's not to say she isn't capable—”

“Save it,” Stan snapped. “You sent goons to her door.”

Sheldon paled. “I didn't send them. Honestly. I was very angry with her for humoring Pierre. I told Maria about it. Maria does not like to see me upset. It takes away from my creativity, my focus, she says. So unbeknownst to me, she called some, er, family members. They paid Ms. Diamond a visit.”

“Are they the same goons who showed up at Pierre's bakery and wanted to break his legs?”

Sheldon didn't seem to know the answer to that.

“Forget it,” Stan said. “I don't even care about Melanie or the goons. But I'll tell you what I do care about. I care about you begging my mother for money. Or using me to get to that money.”

Now he went from pale to ghost. “Stan. If that's what you think—”

“Why shouldn't I think that? That's what happened, isn't it?”

“No.
No.
She's a no-brainer, Stan. She's very supportive of arts and culture. She's obviously attuned to the desires of the wealthy. She has money to invest. What else would she rather invest in than something involving her own daughter?”

Sheldon should have been happy she wasn't a violent person by nature. “I can't believe you did that without asking me. It's disgusting. Where'd you get the so-called cat investor? Is she even for real?”

“Yes!” Sheldon's panicked face told Stan he hadn't really thought this through very well. “Of course the cat is for real. And the investor. Mrs. Pamela Mulcahey. She and her husband have basically built the children's wing of the hospital. She wants a different project to back, and she loves her cat. Very much believes in the same principles you do. That is absolutely for real. Don't you understand?” Sheldon stepped forward and grasped her arms. “This is a beautiful opportunity for you both. Just beautiful. Your mother is so delighted to be part of your world. You have no idea.”

Stan narrowed her eyes at him. “You'll say anything to keep me from walking away, because you might lose her.”

He dropped her arms and turned away, but not before she saw hurt pass across his face. “No,” he said. “That's not true. But I can't change your mind, of course, so you'll have to do what you wish.”

She stared at him in utter disgust. “I'll cook the stupid meal. But I'll do it for myself, because I'm not a quitter. And then, we're done. Do you understand?
Done.
And if I don't find my cat, I'll sue you.” With that, she walked out of Maria's room and slammed the door so hard it echoed throughout the entire suite.