The Secret Ingredient Murders: A Eugenia Potter Mystery (14 page)

      12
W
ARMED-OVER
H
USBAND

Monday morning Genia slept late because she’d stayed up studying Stanley’s cookbook the night before. Following her morning tea and a brisk walk, she busied herself by continuing the work of testing recipes for the Rhode Island cookbook she had been writing with him. The only way she could force herself to do it was to decide to dedicate the project to him. It was lonely work.

While two recipes simmered, she removed from the refrigerator a tureen of ginger carrot soup that she had previously prepared and warmed some for herself. She didn’t feel like eating, but she knew she should, to keep up her spirits. It felt to her as if she had made the soup a lifetime ago, though it was really only two days old. The rich flavors of it—pear and lemon, ginger and carrot—had blended more, so it tasted even better now than when she had first made it.

Sitting at the kitchen table with it, she thought in regard to the soup,
The secret ingredient here is time. Time to mellow and time to deepen
.

Time
. Which Stanley had run out of.

When the bottom of the bowl was visible beneath her spoon, she pushed it aside and pulled out his cookbook again. Slowly, she turned the pages, stopping again at the recipe for sautéed veal, with its mysterious, dramatic message.

The doorbell ringing scattered her thoughts.

When she went to answer it, she was startled to find David Graham standing on her front stoop, looking impossibly debonair in pale yellow slacks, an open-necked white shirt, a blue jacket, and loafers. In his arms he held, rather incongruously, a plastic bag with the label of a gourmet grocery shop in town.

“David!” To her own ears she sounded insincerely warm and enthusiastic; she hoped she didn’t sound that way to him. Here on her front stoop was one of the very people whom Stanley had had to lunch last week, and for what reason? she wondered now. Why in the world would Stanley ask Lillian’s second husband to dine with him on chicken satay? With an effusiveness born of surprise, she exclaimed, “How nice to see you! Won’t you come in?”

“I didn’t think you were home.” He looked really pleased to see her standing there and he also appeared to accept her greeting as a genuine welcome. “Where’s your car, Genia?”

“My car? Oh! I forgot that I lent it to my niece yesterday.”

“I didn’t know if I should come by without calling first, but I took a chance.”

“I’m glad you did. Won’t you come in?”

He stepped into the foyer, where the coral roses he had brought two nights earlier now stood in full bloom in their vase on the table.

“I saw you being helpful at Nikki’s yesterday, Genia.”

“I didn’t do any more than anyone else—”

“That’s not what Nikki told me.” He smiled gratefully at her. “She said you brought chowder and clam cakes and gingerbread, and then you took charge in the kitchen and got everything laid out for the guests. She was very grateful, and I am, too. You know, I think of her as my own daughter. Anyone who helps Nikki is a good person, in my book.”

“She’s fortunate to have a stepfather who cares about her.”

“I love her as much as if she were my real daughter. Anyway,” he said with a charmingly modest air, “I was in the Red Rooster Deli this morning, thinking about you being so nice. And it occurred to me that you had all of us over Saturday night, and then you did all that work for Nikki yesterday, and when did you have a chance to take care of yourself? So I’ve brought you a few things.”

“Why, David …!”

He smiled in a self-effacing way that made light of his spontaneous gesture. “Now, don’t be impressed. It’s nothing at all. Just a little bread, and wine and cheese. The basic foodstuffs, you know.”

Genia laughed, and he did, too.

“That’s so true,” she agreed. “A person could live a long time on bread, wine, and cheese. You’ll help me eat some of it right now, won’t you? Normally, at this time of the morning, I’d be in the kitchen working with Stanley, and I’m feeling so blue to be here without him. I’m really glad to have some company.”

“I think we all feel that something vital has gone out of the town.”

Leading the way into her rental kitchen, Genia thought that had been a very perceptive—and diplomatic—thing for David to say. There were lots of things in the world that were “vital,” including floods and hurricanes, but that didn’t necessarily mean you’d miss them. Lillian’s second husband had found just the right thing to say about the death of her first husband.

With a bread board and bread knife between them, Genia asked David Graham how his stepdaughter was holding up.

“I think she’s doing fine, thank you. Randy is standing by her. The truth is he’s probably relieved that Stanley’s gone—”

“Oh, David,” Genia couldn’t help but object.

“Well, he’s only human, after all. Stanley could make life miserable for people, Genia. You might not have seen that, but it’s God’s truth. Any man who was bold enough to take his little girl away from him was doomed, right from the day of the wedding. I hope you don’t mind my saying this. I mean no offense to Stanley, but he could sure be hard on people.”

“So I’m learning. Was he hard on you, David?”

His response was a wry smile. “Not to my face, which he avoided seeing as much as possible.”

Genia couldn’t help but laugh a little.

David smiled back at her. “Lillian used to say that Stanley didn’t mind me marrying her nearly as much as he minded that now Nikki had a stepfather. We decided that since Nikki was a grown woman and she already had a father, I should take the role of friend and just forget the stepdad business if it bothered Stanley so much. It seemed to work all right.”

“That was tactful of you, David.” Genia hesitated and then plunged in. “Were you surprised when he asked you to lunch last week?”

David looked surprised right at that moment, she thought, and then he laughed out loud. “Surprised? That doesn’t even begin to describe it, Genia. Shocked was more like it. Did he tell you why he asked me to lunch?”

She shook her head no.

“He didn’t? That rascal, I thought he’d tell everybody.”

“What, David? Honestly, he never said a word to me.”

“He wanted money, Genia.” David looked squarely at her, and then he, too, shook his head as if he could hardly believe his own words. “Stanley had decided that I wasn’t married long enough to Lil to deserve to inherit half of her estate. He wanted it back! He said that I didn’t have any right to all that money, or to the house, and that I should sign it all over to Nikki.”

Genia’s mouth nearly dropped open.

“I told him,” David continued, “that what Lillian did with her estate was none of his business anymore. I told him that I had loved her better in those three years than he had in the whole thirty years they’d been together. I know it was cruel, but damn it, the man infuriated me. He treated her like a fancy housekeeper most of the time, and then he thought he could control her even after she was gone.” David took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Genia, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“I am flabbergasted,” she admitted to him.

“So was I. I didn’t stay for the lunch he cooked for us. I just got up from the table and walked out of that house, and …” He suddenly looked a little pale. “And I never saw him again.”

“I don’t know what to say, David.”

But she knew what she was thinking:
No wonder Stanley had not ever mentioned that luncheon to her; if he had, she’d have told him he was out of his mind to ask such a thing of Lillian’s legitimate widower
.

David, looking anxious to find something else to talk about, stared around the kitchen as if searching for a subject of conversation. His expression brightened. “Say, isn’t that the cookbook Nikki gave you last night?”

“Yes, bless her heart.” Genia felt she’d been quite nosy enough for one morning; she latched on to the change of subject as gratefully as he. “I feel a little guilty having it, though. You might tell her for me that if she changes her mind, she can have it back.”

“Oh, I don’t think she will, Genia. Honestly, it may be something special to you, but I think that to Nikki it’s just a dirty old cookbook. Besides, she’s got his whole collection of antique cookbooks, and she is quite proud of those. Still, would you like me to take it back to her, to see what she says?”

“Well, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’d like to keep it around for just a little while longer, David. I am enjoying going through it and reading all of Stanley’s notes to himself. It’s like being with him again.”

Her guest reached for the book and drew it to himself.

“What’s in here, anyway? It looks more like a scrapbook than a cookbook.”

“It really is. There’s a little bit of everything, I guess.”

David pointed to a bit of dried cheese and smiled. “And a taste of it, too.”

Genia smiled. “A health hazard, no doubt.”

“Only if you eat it instead of just read it.” He leafed through a few pages, then closed it and looked over at her. “I’d better not overstay my welcome, especially since I arrived like an orphan on your doorstep. But I was wondering if perhaps we could have dinner together sometime?”

She blinked, not at all sure what he was asking.

“Wednesday night is lobster night at the Yacht Club,” he continued. “All you can eat, and what you can’t eat you can take home. Will you join me?”

It was awkward. She didn’t know the context in which he was inviting her: Was it strictly as a friend, or was it as a date? If the latter, should she mention that she already had a gentleman friend who lived in Boston? And would going out to dinner with this handsome man be an act of disloyalty to her friend Jed? In a small town like this would people talk; would they make up gossip about the handsome widower and the widow from Arizona?

She couldn’t just sit there gaping at him. “I’d love to, David.”

“I’m so glad,” he responded warmly, and suddenly, she was glad, too.

“Did the police come out to talk to you?” he inquired at the front door.

“Yes, but I’m afraid I couldn’t help them.”

“Nor could I,” he said regretfully. “You and I didn’t have anything to gain from Stanley’s death, but it appears that someone must have thought they did. Do you have any idea who that might be?”

The obvious answer was his own stepdaughter, Nikki.

Genia didn’t say that. “No, I don’t, David, do you?”

“No, but I hope they catch him soon, whoever it is.” He looked at her closely for a moment. “You’ll be careful, won’t you? I hope it’s safe for you to stay here. What do the police say about that?”

“They didn’t tell me not to. I think it’s all right. I’m not afraid.”

And that was true, she didn’t feel much fear. And she wasn’t entirely sure that made sense. If a murder occurred only a few hundred yards from a person’s front door, shouldn’t it make that person just a little nervous? Hardly anybody locked their doors in Devon; she supposed that now she ought to, just to be on the safe side.

“Could you stay with your niece, Genia?”

“Yes, I could do that,” she said, without indicating that she would.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said rather sternly. And then he smiled, looking a bit embarrassed. “Not that it’s any of my business to say so. I hope you don’t mind. I’m just concerned, that’s all.”

After he had departed from the house, a scent of his aftershave lingered. It was a clean, musky smell that Genia found pleasant to sniff as she followed it back to the kitchen. When the doorbell surprised her by ringing again, she half expected to find yet another dinner guest standing there at her front door.

But it wasn’t a guest. It was a policeman looking for her nephew.

      13
A
LWAYS
H
UNGRY

The uniformed officer stood on the brick steps of her rented house, his badge glistening in the sunshine. To Genia’s eyes he didn’t look much older than the boy he said he was looking for.

“Mrs. Potter, I’m Officer Cecil Patterson. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Jason. His mother told me I might find him here.”

“Donna did? May I ask why you want him?”

“Just part of his diversion program, ma’am. Random drug test. He knows this could happen at any time. Today just happens to be a day that was good for me to check him out. Is he here?”

“No, Officer Patterson, Jason’s not here—”

But then suddenly he was—pulling up into her driveway behind his sister, who was at the wheel of Genia’s car. From inside the screen door of the house, Genia and the policeman could see the exact moment when the twin in the first car got her initial glimpse of the police car parked ahead of her. Janie put on the brakes so fast that her brother almost ran into her from behind. Jason tapped his horn at her. She stared toward the house—they could see her do it. Obviously, she and Jason were “trapped,” and so Janie slowly pulled forward and parked. Jason did the same. The twins got out of their separate vehicles and walked up to the house as if they were walking through wet cement. When they opened the screen door, Janie’s face hardened into an angry look, but Jason grinned and said, “Hey, Cecil, t’sup?”

The policeman smiled and turned to Genia. “This is what comes of being a cop in a small town, you know. Everybody calls you by your first name.” Pretending a fierce officiousness, he growled at Jason, “That’ll be
Officer
Cecil to you, kid.”

Jason laughed, but behind him Janie did not even smile.

“You know what’s up, Jason,” the policeman continued in a casual tone. “I know it seems like a crock to you, but them’s the rules, kid.”

“Urine check?”

“Right.”

“Here?” Jason’s voice rose a little. “At my aunt’s house? This is embarrassing, man! Why can’t we do it like in other cities, where at least I’d have to go someplace else, like the police station or something. Why do you have to come out to my own house? Or my aunt’s house?”

“Because that’s the way we do it here, son.”

Unmoved, the cop handed Jason a plastic container with a lid on it, and a plastic bag in which to put the “evidence” and seal it so it couldn’t be opened until a lab technician tested it.

“Find a bathroom. Just do it. And then I’ll leave you alone.”

While Jason trudged off to follow the humiliating instructions, Officer Patterson shrugged apologetically to Genia. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s ridiculous!” Janie burst out.

He glanced at her. “We’re just trying to keep your brother clean, young lady.”

“It’s so unfair. He’s not a criminal—”

“Well,” the officer interrupted, “yes, he is. He broke the law, and I hate to tell you this, but that’s what a criminal is. Next time, he could get jail time. Do you want that to happen?”

“No, but—”

“That’s what we’re trying to prevent.”

“You’re just fascists—”

Genia stepped in quickly before her niece could land herself in trouble as big as her brother’s. “Sweetheart, come back into the kitchen with me. Officer, I’m sure you understand. My niece is upset for her brother. If you’ll excuse us …”

Grabbing Janie by the wrist, she tugged the girl away from temptation.

“I knew it!” Janie exploded in the kitchen. The words tumbled over each other. “I knew that’s what he was here for as soon as I saw that cop car. I hate this! All Jason was doing is what every kid does. He was just experimenting, but he got unlucky and got caught. It could have been me, Aunt Genia! I’ve tried pot, and other stuff, too. So has everybody I know. And the cops and the court, they treat him like he’s an ax murderer or something, when all he is is a normal kid like anybody else. It’s so unfair! That cop out there, I’ll bet
he’s
tried pot. I’d bet you anything he has! And he probably drinks, but adults don’t see that as a drug. Oh, no,” she said with deep bitterness, “alcohol doesn’t count, that’s not an addictive drug, not unless a kid drinks it, of course. Then suddenly it’s illegal and they throw the book at him. I hate it, it’s so hypocritical and unfair!”

Genia let her get it all out and didn’t argue with her.

But when Janie plopped down into a kitchen chair and put her face in her hands, Genia sat down near her and said, “You’re right about a lot of things, sweetheart. It’s true that grown-ups are the most hypocritical creatures on the face of the earth. I don’t know if the officer out there drinks, or has ever tried drugs. I do know there are certain laws in this state and this country, and anyone who breaks them takes the risk of getting caught and punished. Just like Jason. That’s how it is. You know that. We can change laws we don’t like, but as long as they’re on the books, there are consequences to breaking them. I love the fact that you care about your brother so much, but you won’t help him if you make enemies of the police.”

The girl looked up, her face tear-stained.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Janie?”

Her niece nodded, though her face looked mulish.

Genia got up to make them both a cup of tea. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Her aunt started getting out a large skillet anyway, and then she pulled out all she would need to fix up “a mess”—as her Arizona neighbors might say—of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns with onions, and pancakes on the side. It was her opinion that low blood sugar made almost anything seem worse, and also that there was no such thing as a teenager who wasn’t hungry.

When Jason came into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking cheerful enough, he appeared delighted to smell breakfast cooking, even if his sister still sat at the table looking as if she’d like to kill somebody.

“Sorry about that, Aunt Genia,” he said, with no real rancor in his tone.

“How much longer, Jason?” she asked him.

“One more week, then I’m free at last.” He spread his arms expansively and grinned at them. “Then I can smoke all the dope I want. Just kidding! Just kidding!”

He and Janie had already turned eighteen, which the family had quietly celebrated with a cake at their mother’s house. If he broke the terms of his diversion now, he would be held accountable as an adult and be subject to a possible prison term. Genia realized that she only had to hold her breath for one more week, until he had completed his “sentence.” Then she had only to worry about the rest of his life! At this moment, Jason certainly didn’t look as if he had any fears about this last drug test. She felt so proud of him for staying “clean” and for working so hard at the Castle during this difficult summer.

When his sister stubbornly refused to come out of her unhappy mood or to eat a bite that Genia fixed, Jason gobbled up her share, too. With the resilience of youth, he seemed to be doing fine in regard to Stanley’s death. Maybe he had let out his emotions in private, Genia thought, so that now he felt better. She hoped so. It wouldn’t be healthy for an eighteen-year-old boy to grieve too much over the death of an old man, no matter how much he liked him.

Looking over at both of them, Genia admitted to herself that if she had to choose which twin worried her most at the moment, it wouldn’t be Jason. It would be sensitive, emotional, unhappy Jane.

“I think I’ll stop by to see your mom today,” she told them.

“You can’t,” they warned her. “Mom’s gone to Providence, and she won’t be back until time for the memorial service tomorrow.” The twins told her they were going out to Parker’s Island to spend the night with their dad, because, as Janie bitterly said, “Mom doesn’t trust us to stay on our own for one night.”

“But at least if we go to the island to see Dad, we’ll get away from Mom,” her brother pointed out. He looked up at his great-aunt and grinned. “All Mom has to do is look at a boat and she pukes.”

“Runs in your family,” Genia told him. “Your uncle Lew was like that, too.”

For once Genia agreed totally with their mother’s decision. Without a parent around to supervise, teens could find themselves in big trouble they didn’t ever intend to happen. Much better for these two to be secluded out on the island with their father, especially considering the fact that unless Stanley’s murderer was some stranger who’d already fled, there was a killer still on the loose in their hometown.

“Janie, eat something,” she pleaded with her niece.

“I can’t,” the girl complained. “Jason ate it all.”

“You snooze, you lose,” he shot back at her.

“I have more eggs,” their great-aunt promised, and she turned to crack two more into the skillet. A few minutes later, she watched with pleasure as Janie chowed down on scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Genia knew she was foolish to think food always made everything all right, but sometimes, it surely made things better.