Tart of Darkness Read online

  “According to Ivy, Regina has some sort of voodoo hold on her friends.”

  “From my experience with Regina, I’m sort of shocked that she didn’t have her daddy sue the sorority.” Dani began to bag the lunches. “Or did she?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What did Regina do to get kicked out?” Dani packed entrées, sides, and desserts into the red-and-white sacks, topping everything off with a napkin stamped with her company logo and social media links.

  “Ivy never said.” Starr shrugged. “But I’m thinking it had to be pretty bad for a sorority to risk getting rid of someone with Regina’s money and connections.”

  “Hmm.” Dani tucked that info into the mental folder labeled Further investigation needed. “How about the guys in Regina’s inner circle?”

  “Her fiancé, Lazarus Hunter, comes from old money but seems nice enough.” Starr began transferring the completed lunches to the refrigerator. “He strikes me as a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.”

  “He sure was a drunken kind of guy at the party.” Dani took an armful of dirty dishes to the sink.

  “I’ve only met him a few times, but I never saw him drink before.”

  “What about Bliss’s boyfriend?” Dani rinsed off dirty bowls and utensils. “Vance King? He sure seemed intent on talking to Regina during the party, and she kept brushing him off.”

  “Vance is sort of creepy. Super callous and self-indulgent, you know?” Starr loaded the dishwasher. “Regina dated him before dumping him for Laz.”

  “Why did she break up with him?” Dani shut off the faucet and winced as the water gurgled down the drain. She sure hoped there wasn’t anything wrong with the plumbing. Pipes in an old house like the mansion could be a time bomb waiting to go off. “I would think a star football player with NFL hopes would be a prize she’d consider worth keeping.”

  “He seemed kind of bossy for a girl like Regina, but I have no idea.” Starr wiped her hands on a paper towel. “You should ask Ivy.”

  “Now you’ve got me curious.” Dani winked at Starr. “Guess I’ll have to see what Ivy says.”

  Starr headed upstairs to study and Dani checked the microwave clock. She had fifteen or twenty minutes until customers started to show up. Time enough to wash and to put on clean clothes.

  A quarter of an hour later, Dani smiled at herself in the mirror. The shower had felt heavenly and her headache was almost completely gone. She’d already combed her wet hair and wound it into a bun. Now she pulled on a pair of jeans and a peach button-down blouse, then brushed on some blush and mascara. Sliding her feet into a pair of loafers, she hurried downstairs.

  As she stepped into the kitchen, the front doorbell rang. Her pulse raced and she froze.

  Shit! That better not be Kipp wanting his darn book, or worse, Mikeloff back to arrest me. Her lunch customers would be arriving any second, and she couldn’t afford to send them away empty-handed.

  Dani shot a glance at the sliding window to assure herself that no one was waiting, then turned on her heel and headed down the hallway. Dread slowed her steps, and as she approached the vestibule, she stopped completely. Finally, she reluctantly crept toward the window, careful to keep out of sight.

  Squinting, Dani saw a young woman who was a little taller than average and a lot curvier than was fashionable. One thing about living in a college town was the plethora of young, beautiful, thin females. The abundance of size-four young women often made anyone who wore a pair of jeans with a double-digit tag feel huge.

  However, the woman tapping her toe impatiently on the front porch radiated a confidence that Dani envied. Between spending much of the last year with Kipp sniping at her figure, and all of her life having her father tell her she wasn’t thin enough, her body image was at an all-time low.

  Curious, since there was a sign directing Chef-to-Go customers to the rear entrance, Dani opened the door and said, “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Danielle Sloan?” The young woman slid her foot over the threshold.

  “Yes.” Dani frowned. Was her visitor selling something? “And you are?”

  Nearby a car door slammed and a motor whined to life. Dani glanced past her visitor’s shoulder but didn’t see the vehicle.

  “Frannie Ryan.” The woman stuck out her hand. “I work for the Normalton News.”

  “You’re a reporter?” Dani had sent a press release when she’d started her business. It would be great if the newspaper did a feature article.

  “Not exactly.” The woman’s long, brown hair swirled in the warm breeze, emphasizing her suddenly red cheeks. “But I am a journalist. I cover the obituaries and write the Miss Fortune column.”

  “Well, no one at this address has passed on or has submitted a request for advice.” At least Dani didn’t think so. She was distracted by the sound of chimes indicating someone was at the to-go window. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Sorry, I need to get that.”

  “No problem.” Frannie slipped inside. “I can wait until you’re free.”

  The chimes sounded again and Dani gave up on the idea of pushing her back outside. Grudgingly, she allowed the woman to follow her down the hallway.

  As soon as they entered the kitchen, Frannie’s eyes widened. “Wow! Your kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment.” She trailed her fingers on the counter and added, “Nicer too.”

  “Thanks.” Dani waved her visitor out of her way. “Take a seat.”

  Turning her attention to the waiting customers, Dani sold lunches nonstop for nearly an hour. She was so relieved that Regina’s death didn’t seem to be hurting her business, she almost forgot the reporter sitting at the table.

  However, as she handed over the last of the red-and-white sacks, Frannie said, “Holy cow! Those things are really popular. What a fabulous idea.”

  “Thanks.” Dani smiled. “Would you like to taste some of the leftovers?”

  “Sure.” Frannie twisted a glossy, brown lock of hair around her finger.

  “You never did tell me why you’re here.” Dani put a less than perfectly wrapped chicken sandwich and the last small scoop of sweet potato salad on a dish and slid it in front of her guest, along with a cold bottle of water.

  “Regina Bourne.” Frannie mumbled around a mouthful of the salad. “I heard one of the reporters say that she died after her annual SummerPalooza bash. So I asked around and found out you catered it.”

  “I see.” Dani twisted her fingers in her apron. This wasn’t good. “I did provide the food, but Ms. Bourne was alive and well when I left the party.”

  “I know that.” Frannie picked up the chicken wrap. “According to my source, the final guests left the luau at 2:37 a.m. and they were the last ones to see Regina alive and conscious.”

  “Who told you that?” Dani poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed a plate of triple chocolate chip bars, and joined Frannie.

  “I can’t reveal my sources.” Frannie opened the water bottle.

  “How about the identity of the last guests?” Dani selected a cookie.

  “That I can do.” Frannie grinned. “It was her fiancé, Lazarus Hunter, and his pal Lance King. It seems Mr. Hunter was royally pissed with Ms. Bourne about something and, according to his buddy, the guy made quite a scene as he peeled out of the driveway.”

  “I wonder what they were fighting about.” Dani chewed thoughtfully.

  “My guess is”—Frannie tapped her pen on her lips—“Regina wouldn’t let Lazarus spend the night.”

  “Perhaps,” Dani agreed. “He probably would expect to, since they were engaged.”

  “Exactly.” Frannie’s brown eyes sparkled. “So why did she send him away?”

  “Well…” Dani considered how much she should say, but there was no oath of confidentiality for a caterer and aiming the spotlight at another subject was a smart idea. “Laz w
as drinking heavily, as was his pal Vance. Maybe Regina didn’t want to deal with a drunk.”

  “It’s possible,” Frannie said thoughtfully. “But I thought SummerPalooza was one big booze fest. Wasn’t Regina drinking too?”

  Dani wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t know.” Had she seen Regina drink anything? “I was pretty busy keeping up with the food.”

  “And saving everyone’s bacon when that idiot King nearly burned down the place.” Frannie nabbed a paper napkin from the holder in the center of the table and wiped her fingers. “Mr. Hunter said you were awesome.”

  “It wasn’t that big a deal.” Dani twitched her shoulders. “It was a small blaze and I just used my fire extinguisher to put it out.”

  “My friend Skye says we all have to learn to accept the credit for our accomplishments.” Frannie shook her finger at Dani. “She says it’s just as important as admitting when we screw up.”

  “She sounds like a smart cookie,” Dani said. “But if you’re assigned to the obituaries and Miss Fortune column, why are you asking me about Regina?”

  “Because if I solve the murder and scoop everyone else with an awesome story, maybe I won’t have to write obits or advice to the lovelorn anymore.”

  “I’d like to help you with that, but you seem to know a lot more about the case than me.” Dani stirred sweetener into her coffee.

  Frannie dug a notebook from her purse. “But you were there.” Her voice was hypnotic. “Tell me everything that happened from the minute it started.”

  “It really just seemed like a normal party.” Dani cradled her mug. “I mean it was very high end, with the best of everything, but otherwise, it had loud music, lots of people, and too much alcohol.”

  “Still…” Frannie drew out the word. “I doubt there’s a fire or a hostess throwing a tantrum about desserts at every event you cater.”

  “You heard about that too, huh?” Dani was beginning to dislike Frannie’s informant.

  “Of course.” Frannie beamed. “Another one of my sources is really convinced you killed Regina.”

  “What?” Dani squeaked. “Is that source a certain obnoxious detective?”

  Frannie ignored Dani’s question. “The thing is, this guy or gal is a little too anxious for the perp to be you. Hence you have even more at stake in discovering who rubbed out Regina Bourne than I do.”

  “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t your first murder investigation?” Dani narrowed her eyes.

  “Because I have a friend back home with many unusual talents. Solving mysteries is just one of them.”

  Chapter 10

  The automatic doors swished shut behind Dani as she pushed her cart inside the local Meijer superstore. She shivered and rubbed the goose bumps on her arms as the overcooled air surrounded her.

  Her mouth watered at the aroma of frying chicken coming from the nearby deli, but she ignored the temptation and headed into the produce section. She quickly skimmed her list and began selecting what she’d need for the rest of the week.

  While she bought most of the dry and canned ingredients wholesale, she had yet to find a reliable supplier for fruit and vegetables. She had feelers out to various farms in the area, but with the Midwest weather, they’d only be able to provide what she needed for a few months out of the year.

  As she tapped cantaloupes and sniffed honeydews, she thought about her morning visitor. Frannie Ryan was an interesting woman. She’d told Dani that she’d graduated from college in the spring and was thrilled to find work in Normalton because her boyfriend, Justin, had one more year to go. He was finishing his degree at the University of Illinois, which was less than half an hour away, so they could still live together.

  Frannie and Justin had both grown up in Scumble River, a small town that apparently had more than its fair share of homicides. She had recounted several cases that she and her friend Skye had solved.

  If Dani wasn’t already convinced that she needed to look into Regina’s murder herself, Frannie’s stories would have persuaded her. She just couldn’t trust her fate to a cop with a grudge.

  As Dani continued to shop, she considered her next move. She and Frannie had agreed the best suspects were Regina’s fiancé and closest friends. Which one would be the easiest to talk to first?

  After contemplating the trio of potential culprits, she fished through her purse for her cell. Once she located the sneaky device, which had been hiding under her wallet, she sent a quick text to Ivy:

  Has Laz Hunter returned your necklace yet?

  Ivy instantly answered: No.

  ask him to bring it over tonight. he can stay for dinner.

  A short pause and Ivy responded: Okay. You want to grill him about Regina, right? Do you think he killed her? Cuz he’s not like that.

  In reply, Dani sent Ivy an emoji of a face with wiggling eyebrows.

  Turning into the meat aisle, Dani checked the weight of a roast. She was scheduled to cook for Trent and Chelsea Karnes the next evening and planned to make them beef tenderloin with port sauce.

  They hadn’t called to cancel her services as their personal chef, so either they hadn’t heard that Mikeloff thought she murdered Regina or they didn’t care. Either possibility worked for Dani.

  Maybe the Karneses would have some insight on Regina’s life. They were friends of her parents and were supposed to be keeping an eye on her while Mr. and Mrs. Bourne were on their trip, which, considering Regina’s age, was a little odd. But then again, for some girls, twenty-one would be too old to depend on parental assistance, but Regina hadn’t struck Dani as a young woman who was really used to handling things on her own. Getting her own way, yes. Shouldering the responsibility of those choices, not so much.

  Who would Regina lean on when her parents were on vacation? Chelsea Karnes didn’t seem like the maternal type, but Regina would never confide in her housekeeper. The spoiled young woman was way too class conscious to give her servant that kind of power over her.

  Even so, Dani needed to talk to Mrs. Carnet, who doubtlessly knew more about her employer’s personal life than Regina had ever realized. The trick would be getting the housekeeper to share that information with a relative stranger—someone who was high on the police’s suspect list and had little to offer in return.

  Heading toward the checkout lane, Dani tried to figure out a way to approach Mrs. Carnet. Nearly two hundred bucks later, loading her van full of groceries, Dani still had no idea how to gain the housekeeper’s trust.

  Tucking that problem away for another time, Dani climbed behind the wheel and drove out of the grocery store’s parking lot. Turning onto the street, she tensed at the sound of a siren.

  The fear of Mikeloff returning to arrest her was never far from her thoughts, and when an ambulance passed going in the opposite direction, she blew out a relieved breath. If this all didn’t end soon, she would end up with a heart attack.

  As tempting as it was to wallow in her troubles, Dani focused on the positive news. Ivy had texted that Laz accepted the invitation to dinner.

  Of course now that he was coming, Dani had to come up with a way to make him spill his guts. If it weren’t for her “no alcohol” decree for her boarders, she’d consider getting him drunk. On the other hand, at the luau, Laz had grown quieter and quieter as he tossed back Jell-O shots. So even if she were willing to break her rule, booze wasn’t the answer. She’d have to loosen his tongue some other way.

  Dinner was at six, which left Dani just under three hours to cook and come up with an interrogation plan. How would she ask a grieving fiancé why someone would want to kill his beloved wife-to-be? Or worse yet, if he had been the one to wield the syringe.

  Which reminded her, when Dani had agreed to share info with Frannie Ryan, the budding journalist had promised to get ahold of the autopsy results once they were final. Knowing the location of the injection might help z
ero in on possible suspects. After all, a causal acquaintance could probably get to one of Regina’s limbs, but a more intimate site would point the finger of blame in a completely different direction.

  After arriving home, checking her business voicemail for any inquiries regarding future bookings, and putting away her purchases, Dani spent the rest of the afternoon preparing a potato-and-leek gratin and chicken Kiev. She usually cooked much simpler fare for the girls, but she wanted to impress Laz. Besides, it was a good practice run of the menu she was making for a sorority alumnae dinner in a couple of weeks.

  She was pleasantly surprised when Laz arrived on time. He was dressed in crisply pressed khakis and a blue button-down shirt.

  As Dani ushered him inside, she said, “I just want you to know how sorry I am for your loss.” She saw a flicker of sadness in the young man’s eyes, but he blinked and it was gone. Leading him into the kitchen, Dani continued, “Although it isn’t the same, I lost my mother at a young age, and I can understand some of what you might be going through.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.” Laz cleared his throat, then seemed to push away any lingering emotion. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  After handing Ivy her necklace, he presented Dani with a lovely bouquet of pink lilies and white daises. A woodsy fragrance drifted toward her and she sniffed appreciatively, identifying the scent as Dior Sauvage, a pricey fragrance that was her father’s favorite aftershave.

  While Dani put the flowers in a vase, Ivy showed Laz to the kitchen table and took the seat next to him. Starr and Tippi slid into the chairs on the opposite side and Dani served the food.

  As they ate, she was shocked at how different Laz was when he wasn’t drunk. Sober, he was charming. At the party, he’d been sullen and aloof, ignoring his friends and fiancée, as well as anyone else who tried to speak to him.

  “This is delicious,” Laz commented, holding out his plate for a second helping of the gratin. “What spice is it that I taste?”