Tilly cracked an egg. “You’ll do no such thing. They have good heads on their shoulders, and they’re together. They’ll be fine.”
“Briley wants to be Miley Cyrus for Halloween,” said Wesley. “I wish she were back in the Little Mermaid phase.”
“I know!” Tilly added the spices to her cake batter.
I would have added more cinnamon. I felt as if I were channeling Abby, again.
At that moment, I spied a roll of red gingham on a shelf. “Is there any significance in red gingham?” I asked Tilly.
“I love anything gingham. To me it’s a sign of home, of cozy, lazy days with family. Nothing pretentious, nothing fancy, just the comfort of a country home.”
“So it’s sort of your trademark?”
“I guess you could say that.” Tilly pulled back and looked at me curiously. “Is there something wrong with it?” She gasped. “Oh my! Does it mean something else that I don’t know about?”
I laughed. “If it does, I don’t know about it, either. I was thinking that you should use it on the cover of the cookbook in some fashion. It would be a fun way to market anything else you might make. Like if you decide to sell jam, for instance, you could put some red gingham on the jars somewhere.”
“I love that idea! I’ll tell the producer of my TV show, too. Maybe they can use it as a logo somehow.”
Chapter 19
Dear Natasha,
My daughter is getting married and moving into her first home. I would love to surprise her with a housewarming gift of spices and herbs. Which ones would you recommend for a novice cook?
Proud Mom in Boring, Oregon
Dear Proud Mom,
What a thoughtful gift. I would recommend ghost chili powder, cayenne pepper, saffron, licorice root, cloves, and turmeric. Your daughter will be ready to create delicious dishes.
Natasha
I walked home feeling like a traitor. I didn’t think Natasha was capable of sharing a TV show with someone else. She always had to be the star, the center of attention. And it would be a miserable experience for Tilly because Natasha would constantly correct her. But why couldn’t they each have a TV show?
That evening, I ate leftover chicken and dumplings for dinner. Neither Natasha nor Wolf called me, so I assumed Charlene’s condition hadn’t changed and that no one had found Abby.
I settled in with a good book and relaxed. But I double-checked all the doors before going to bed. For all we knew, a crazed killer had attacked Charlene and was still roaming the streets.
* * *
My neighborhood was quiet and calm when I walked Daisy on Thursday morning. I decided to treat myself to breakfast at The Laughing Hound. Who knew? Maybe I could pick up some news there.
After feeding Daisy and Mochie, I hopped in the shower and noted with dismay that steam from the shower was beginning to loosen the tape where the tiles were missing. I would have to make that a priority as soon as I finished the cookbook for Tilly. I blew my hair dry and pulled on stretchy black jeans, a wine-colored sweater set, and gold hoops. I doubled a black, white, and red plaid scarf and pulled both ends through the loop. I let it hang loosely, but it made all the difference in the outfit.
With Daisy and Mochie contently snoozing, I walked down to the Laughing Hound.
Brittany made a beeline for me when I entered the restaurant.
“Bernie found the most recent receipt from Fred Conway,” she whispered. “He lives a few blocks from here on Princess Street.”
“How did you find out his address?” I asked. Wolf wouldn’t have shared that, would he?
Brittany’s face flushed, but she seemed very proud of herself when she said, “On my way to work this morning, I saw Wolf get out of his car and walk up to a house. I may have lingered a little bit to see who answered the door. It was Fred.”
It was exactly what I would have done. I grinned at her. “Excellent work! Now maybe we can find Charlene’s relatives and learn more about her.”
“I have to get back to my tables. Bernie and Mars are eating on the private terrace upstairs.”
“Thanks, Brittany.” I knew exactly where it was and quickly found the two of them. I took one look at Mars’s plate and teased, “You’re eating eggs Benedict without me?” It was one of my favorites.
Mars’s plate hadn’t been touched. That wasn’t like him at all. Something was wrong.
Mars shoved his plate toward me. “Help yourself.”
I sat down next to him and ate. “It’s good. What’s your problem?”
Mars’s gaze met Bernie’s.
“Uh-oh. What’s going on?” I asked.
Mars sucked in a deep breath. “I have been fired.”
I nearly choked on the eggs Benedict. Bernie poured me a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. When I caught my breath, I asked, “By Wesley?”
Mars nodded. “It’s the first time in my entire life that I’ve been fired. No one fires me. I can’t believe this.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” I said.
Mars shot me an annoyed look.
“Wesley wouldn’t have fired you if something underhanded wasn’t going on. It might be a good thing that you’re no longer involved with him. I was over there yesterday, and your pal Jericho was calling the shots.”
“Interesting,” he muttered. Mars’s entire demeanor shifted from dejected to suspicious.
I could tell that he felt better already. “They’re sitting around watching the news and complaining about the fact that Wolf hasn’t been in touch. In fact, Jericho tried to talk me into getting information for them from Wolf, like a spy. Can you imagine?”
“Yeah, well, I might have done that, too,” said Mars. “It’s frustrating not to know what’s happening.”
“Mars! You know perfectly well that Wolf wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Not unless he wanted you to know,” observed Bernie. “Wolf’s a smart guy.”
“I heard you found Fred Conway’s receipt,” I said.
Mars picked up a fork and began to eat the other half of the eggs Benedict. “I can’t imagine what the deal is with Wesley. I’m having trouble imagining that he was having an affair with Abby.”
“He was about to jump out of his skin when I was over there. In my most humble opinion, he’s overreacting for someone who barely knew Abby.”
“Firing me is certainly proof of that. But why did he want me out of there? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Bernie said, “You don’t suppose that Abby overheard something and was onto them?”
Mars stopped eating. “That would make sense.”
“No, it wouldn’t!” I swiped a napkin from Mars. “What about Mia? Did she overhear something, too?”
“Why not?” asked Mars. “They both hung out with Tilly. That’s entirely plausible. Maybe Mia went over to Abby’s house to discuss whatever they overheard.”
“You realize that you’re incriminating your former client,” I pointed out.
“Or Jericho,” said Mars. “He’s sleazy enough to do something underhanded.”