Murder Has a Sweet Tooth Read online

  I tucked the newsletter and the sympathy card back where I’d found them and hurried out of the house. I had one more stop to make and once I did, I’d have everything I needed to prove who killed Vickie and Beth, and why. For now, I had one piece of the puzzle, and it was a big one. I knew that Edward wasn’t the only one who knew his wife was stepping out on him. All of them—Edward, Michael, Scott, and Chip—every one of the husbands knew what his wife was up to on Tuesday nights.

  OAKWOOD CEMETERY IN FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA, is right off the Lee Highway. It didn’t take me long to get there, and I timed my arrival just right. I parked my car just as the service finished and the mourners were walking away from Beth’s grave.

  Beth was much loved and the crowd was sizable. I saw Glynis and Celia standing to the side and crying, but I ignored them and hoped they didn’t see me. If I was right about what was going on, Beth’s funeral wasn’t the place for them to find it out. I sidestepped my way through the crowd of teary-eyed mourners and found Michael looking appropriately solemn in a black suit and an understated gray-and-black-striped tie.

  “I am so sorry.” I didn’t have to pretend to be rushed and out of breath; it was a long walk from the car and over to the gravesite. “Oh, Michael! I can’t believe I missed the entire service. I had to stop at Ballston Common Mall in Arlington this morning and when I came out, my car had a flat. Doesn’t it just figure!” I threw my hands in the air in frustration. “My cell phone wasn’t working, either. The battery was dead. And have you ever tried to find a public phone these days? It’s practically impossible.”

  He was distracted. Who could blame him? Michael had just seen his wife’s ashes interred. The emotional undercurrent of the situation was, of course, exactly what I was hoping to take advantage of.

  His answer was a throwaway designed to dismiss me as quickly as possible. “There’s a public phone right there at North Glebe and Seventh Street North,” he said, and it wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that he realized he’d given himself away.

  This was no time to gloat, so I didn’t dare crack a smile when I said, “North Glebe and Seventh Street North. That’s the pay phone that was used to call in the anonymous tip about Vickie. You know, the one that led the police to her body. They had a theory that the murderer made the call. It’s funny that you’d know exactly where that phone is located.”

  Michael’s face went as gray as the stripe in his tie. Right before a color like hot lava shot up his neck and into his cheeks. “It isn’t funny,” he growled. “It isn’t anything. It’s just a comment. It’s just a phone. And plenty of people know it’s there.”

  “Of course.” I backed off. There was no point in doing anything else, at least not until I talked to Tyler and told him about everything I’d discovered that day. “It’s a public phone. On a public street. I only wish there was someone over at the mall this morning who knew where it was. Then I could have called for a ride and gotten here on time. You know, Michael, I really am sorry about Beth.”

  His jaw was so tight, I was afraid it might snap, and besides, I’d found out all I needed to know. I turned and walked away.

  By now, the crowd had dispersed. I saw Chip take Glynis’s arm. With one sharp look over his shoulder at me, Scott walked over to where Celia was waiting. I didn’t see Edward at all, and I figured he was already back in his car and headed home.

  With that in mind, I took a moment to stop in the shade of a tall standing headstone to pull out my cell and give Tyler a call. Reception was terrible; I couldn’t get a connection. Determined, I skirted a newly dug grave gaping like a bottomless pit in the sunshine. I ducked under the low-hanging branches of a tree and walked another dozen yards, hoping for a better signal. When I didn’t get one, I told myself there was no hurry and turned back toward my car.

  Edward Monroe stood directly in my path.

  I sucked in a surprised gasp.

  Edward took a step closer. “You’re not very good about following advice,” he said, his voice even, though there was a spark of annoyance in his eyes. “I told you—”

  “To mind my own business. Yeah, I remember that.” My heart beat double time and I forced myself to take a few steadying breaths. Without making it look too obvious, I looked to my right and my left out of the corner of my eye, just to see who was around. Nobody was, not within yelling distance, anyway. I reminded myself there was nothing to be gained by trying to be a hero, and decided to play it cool. With that in mind, I offered Edward a quick smile. “I appreciate your advice. It’s always nice to have good friends watching your back. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it? They care about you.”

  He took another step closer. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

  Oh, yeah, there was a time to play it cool, all right. But there was a time to run, too. Since cool was getting me nowhere, I gathered my courage, told myself I could sprint with the best of them even though I knew it wasn’t true, and spun around.

  Michael was standing not five feet behind me.

  Even before I looked, I knew Scott and Chip would have my other opportunities for escape blocked. Scott was on my left, Chip on my right.

  I was hemmed in and alone, and my only hope was to find a weak link and take advantage of it. This was no time to beat around the bush. “You knew your wives were stepping out on you. All of you knew.” I looked from one man to the others. “You can’t deny it. Not when you each have Sonny’s cooking class schedule in your possession. You knew there were no cooking classes on Tuesday nights.”

  “Edward!” Chip stepped forward, but whatever protest he was going to offer was cut short by Edward’s scorching look.

  Weak link noted, and it was exactly where I thought it would be. I took a step in Chip’s direction. “Just like your wives, you were all best friends, and best friends stick up for each other. That’s why you all agreed to the plan, though Edward . . .” I looked back his way. “I’m pretty sure you were the mastermind. It has your cold, calculated sort of stamp on it.”

  “Really?” He folded his arms over his chest. “How cold and calculating is that?”

  “Cold and calculating enough that you all agreed to kill each other’s wives.”

  Talk about touching a nerve! Edward’s nostrils flared. Michael fumed. Scott, who I’d probably never said more than a few words to, just about blew a gasket. As I expected, Chip dissolved into a quivering mound of mush.

  “I told you!” Chip blubbered. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I told you somebody was going to find out. I told you it was a bad idea, Edward. There was no way we could plan four murders and not think we’d get caught.”

  “Shut up.” Edward’s snarl stopped him in his tracks. “She doesn’t know anything. She’s bluffing. There’s no way she knows. It’s all just a crazy theory, so keep your mouth shut.”

  I made it look as casual as I could when I took another step in Chip’s direction, and because I was hoping to catch them all off guard, I kept right on talking.

  “Poor Beth, as soon as she told Edward what was going on with Vickie on Tuesday nights, she signed her own death warrant. She was the only one who could prove you knew what Vickie was up to, Edward. That’s why she had to die. But then Michael . . .” I looked his way while I stepped toward Chip. “That’s what you were talking about when you said Beth wasn’t supposed to die yet. Your plan called for each of you to do a favor for a best friend. You were each going to murder one wife, but not your own. That explains Edward’s alibi for the night Vickie was killed. They all had to die, but my guess is you were going to drag it out over the course of a year or so. Some of the deaths would look like accidents, like Beth’s was supposed to. And poor Beth, she thought she’d be safe by blackmailing Edward. Little did she know she didn’t have to. Right?” I didn’t wait for Edward to answer; I breezed right on. “Jeremy playing soccer and Michael, you getting a promotion you obviously hadn’t earned . . . that was Edward’s payment to you, wasn’t it? That was your rewar
d for killing Vickie. And you knew exactly where to find her. Edward had probably been following her. He brought you a coaster so you could easily find the place.”

  “Shut up!” Edward was done talking. He closed in on me and my gut reaction told me to run. When I made a move to take off in Chip’s direction, Michael came up from behind and his hand went around my arm like a vise.

  “Toss her in that open grave,” Edward growled. “You didn’t get it right with the sauna or that bus. Maybe this will work better. We’ll cover her up and they won’t find her until it’s too late.”

  Michael and Scott didn’t hesitate. Chip was another story. He was as pale as the ghost I would be if I didn’t do something and didn’t do it fast. Michael had my right arm in a death grip. Scott had my left. I locked my legs and refused to move, and when they tried to drag me, I kicked and screamed. Even all the noise I was making wasn’t enough to block out Chip’s shrieks.

  “We never agreed to this. Not to this.” He was hysterical; he fell to his knees. “We never said we’d hurt a stranger. It’s going to get us in trouble, Edward, and it wasn’t part of the plan. We said we’d kill each other’s wives. We said we’d do it because they deserved it. They were sneaking around behind our backs. They needed to be punished. But this is too much.”

  We were at that wide-open grave. I toed the edge, still struggling to keep as far away from the hole as I could, and when Scott and Michael tightened their grips, I knew they were going to heave-ho me down into the hole. Once I was down there, there was no way out. I needed a miracle, or a friend. I’d settle for either, as long as it was fast.

  I was so busy struggling and praying and looking for a way out, it took me a second to notice when Scott loosened his hold. Michael did the same. They stepped away from me, and when I looked at them, both of them were staring, mouths open and eyes wide. It didn’t take me longer to figure out why.

  Glynis and Celia had stepped out from behind a headstone, and the looks of stunned disbelief on their faces told me they’d heard everything. While the wives were still processing what they’d learned and the husbands were wondering what it all meant and what they were going to do about it, I made my move. There was a shovel nearby, and I reached down and grabbed it. I swung and I swung hard, and at that point, I didn’t care who I hit.

  It turned out to be Edward, who staggered, stumbled, and fell into the hole, where he proceeded to swear a blue streak and demanded that his conspirators help him out. But with their ringleader gone, Scott and Michael lost their nerve. They took off running. Weeping, Chip crawled over to Glynis and made a grab for her hand.

  She took one look at him and wound an arm through Celia’s; together, the women hurried to my side. They led me over to Celia’s SUV. It had one of those in-car phone systems and the reception was perfect.

  Within seconds, we had the police on the phone.

  Sixteen

  “YOU HEARD? CHIP IS SINGING LIKE A CANARY!” I was in Tyler’s arms. We were dancing, of course! He’d just cut in on me and Alex, and now he twirled me. I waited until the familiar Bellywasher’s scenery settled down before I even tried to answer.

  “I’m not surprised,” I said. “It was obvious all along that Chip was upset about something. He felt terrible about what was going on; Vickie’s murder, Beth’s, the idea that one of these days, Glynis was going to be next.”

  “Apparently, that’s what he started out feeling so guilty about, knowing that his own wife was going to be murdered. But people like that are all alike. Selfish through and through. By the time it was all over, I think Chip was feeling less worried about Glynis and more concerned that he was going to get caught. It’s no skin off my nose why he decided to talk.” Tyler smiled. No, really, I mean it. Detective Tyler Cooper actually smiled! “Whatever gets him to squeal on his coconspirators is fine by me. They’ve all lawyered up, and it’s not going to do them one bit of good. We’re going to lock the whole bunch of them up for the rest of their days.”

  The thought was enough to send a cloud skittering over what had been, until that moment, the happiest day of my life. Believe me, it wasn’t that I felt sorry for Chip, Scott, or Michael, and I especially didn’t feel sorry for Edward. Chip had confirmed my suspicion that the plot was Edward’s brainchild from the start. As soon as he found out what Vickie was doing on Tuesday nights, Edward began following her. And when he learned that the other women were doing the same thing . . . well, Edward was the kind of man whose personal power was hard to resist. He’d proved that when he convinced the other husbands that their wives needed to be punished.

  “Poor Vickie and Beth,” I said. “And poor Celia and Glynis. I invited them to the wedding, you know. But I’m not surprised they didn’t come. They’re going to need a lot of time and some serious counseling to get over everything that’s happened. I can’t even imagine how hard it must be for them. To think that your husband is part of an elaborate plan to kill you . . .”

  “He is not. Never would.” An ear-to-ear smile on his face, Jim cut into the dance, and Tyler didn’t protest. Eve was standing near the bar and he went over and gave her a peck on the cheek. My happiness factor shot up another couple notches. That’s what happens when a best friend sees her best friend in love. Would Eve and Tyler end up like Jim and me, with wedding rings on their fingers and the warm promise of years of happiness adding to the glow of every day? Honestly, I couldn’t say. But I could hope. From the love-struck look in Tyler’s eyes when he gazed at Eve, I could tell he did, too.

  And who could blame him for looking at her like she had stepped out of a dream? That day, Eve was resplendent in a dress she’d bought the summer before, hung in her closet, and promptly forgot she even had. It was a satin sheath with a funky little beaded bolero, so like the one I’d lost beneath the wheels of that bus, it was uncanny. Her dress was robin egg blue, a perfect maid-of-honor complement to my sapphire gown.

  Yeah, the strapless one with the rhinestone-studded bodice and the full skirt that looked like mounds of whipped cream. The one that Marie just happened to have in my size.

  On the hanger, the gown was so bodacious and so not me, I couldn’t stand to even think about it, but once I tried it on—

  “You look incredible,” Jim said. “Like a fairy-tale princess.”

  I felt like I’d just stepped out of a fairy tale, too, and right into my own happily-ever-after. Especially when Jim scooped me into his arms and held me close. “Just so there’s no doubt about it,” he said, “you need to know that your husband adores you.” And he kissed me to prove it.

  Our wedding guests were apparently watching. They erupted in cheers and applause.

  Marc, one of our cooks, had volunteered to be the DJ for the evening. When he saw that Jim and I were dancing together, he changed the song from something with an upbeat, Big Band sort of feel to one that was nice and slow.

  Jim’s arm tightened around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder. We’d been so busy greeting guests and toasting since we’d said I do, we’d hardly had a moment to talk to each other. This was nice, swaying back and forth, curled into each other’s arms. I had never been so certain of anything: This was where I wanted to be for the rest of my life.

  “And I’m not just saying I love you because of the deep-fried Mars bars.” There was a smile—and just a tiny smudge of chocolate—on Jim’s lips.

  “It was the only Scottish food I could find that didn’t gross me out,” I explained. “I wanted to make something more traditional, something more truly Scottish, but—”

  “What could be a better tribute to Scottish cuisine!” Jim laughed. “I remember having them in the fish-and-chips shops as a boy back in Glasgow. It was a wonderful gift, and you are a wonderful woman to have thought of it.”

  I had to come clean. After all, this was my husband I was talking to. “Marc and Damien did the frying.” Since the smoke alarms hadn’t gone off, Jim probably had already figured this out.

  “And it’s perfect. Yo
u’ll notice that Alex and the rest of my Scots relatives have eaten more than their share.”

  “And the African violets?”

  Jim glanced around the pub at the flowers we’d placed on every table. “They’re a lovely gift for our guests.” His smile settled and his expression grew serious. “Only, Annie, after everything that’s happened, do you still believe? I mean, in love and marriage and how two people can be together for the rest of their lives?”

  It was a strange question, especially coming from my groom on our wedding day. I stepped back enough to look up into Jim’s hazel eyes. “You think—”

  “I think that when you solve a couple murders and they’re all tied up with wives going out to meet other men, and husbands who are angry at their wives for going out and meeting other men . . . I don’t know.” Inside his tux jacket, his broad shoulders twitched. “I think all that might tend to make any woman a little nervous. You know, about marriage.”

  “Not about my marriage!” This time, I kissed him. It was just about the best way I could think to prove my sincerity. “It’s sad that those relationships ended so badly. It’s tragic. But that’s not going to happen. Not to you and me. This is going to last forever.”

  His eyes gleamed. “Aye, I was hoping you’d say that. It’s what I think, too.”

  Across Bellywasher’s, Alex raised a glass and proposed another toast, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Alex doesn’t seem to have suffered any long-lasting effects. I’m glad it all worked out.”

  “And Alex knows it worked out all because of you. Thank you!” Another kiss and I’ll admit it, I could have stood right there like that forever. That’s how contented and happy I was.

  I might have stood right there like that forever if not for the fact that another cheer went up from the crowd. I pulled out of Jim’s arms (but kept a hold of his hand) just in time to see Damien carry our wedding cake out of the kitchen, and yes, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the same understated wedding cake I had ordered from Clara: a yellow cake, frosted with chocolate mousse and tastefully decorated with a festive, ivory-colored ganache ribbon and dozens of multicolored (but not too bright) ganache stars. There wasn’t a sparkler in sight, and this made me very happy.