The Diva Digs up the Dirt (35 page)

“Mars and Natasha didn’t even know he was there. Wolf’s a decent chap. Are you devastated about losing him?”

I suspected that I would have some tough moments ahead of me, but I had done the right thing for everyone. That would teach me for dating a man with a wife—even if she was an absentee wife. What could I have been thinking? “I didn’t lose Wolf. I never had him.”

Natasha wedged between us. “Have you seen my repurps?” She propelled us to a cabinet near the fireplace. “Troy is featuring this one on his show!” Her sentence ended on an excited pitch.

Bernie and I agreed that it was very clever. She’d attached the stained-glass window to the little bookshelf as a door. It worked perfectly and dressed up two discarded pieces.

“Where’s the bed?” I hoped she would say Troy had declined it.

“Follow me.” Natasha struggled to walk across the grass to the far corner of my yard in her heels. With great pomp, she showed us an adorable bench. I’d seen it earlier in the day but hadn’t made the connection. She’d used the headboard as the back. The lower footboard had been cut into two parts and used as matching arms. The slats had been screwed on to form a seat.

Leon, Natasha’s assistant, showed up and wrapped an arm around me. “Isn’t it gorgeous? Cutting the footboard correctly was a little bit tough, but I’m so proud if it. Did you notice that I painted it foxglove pink?”

I thanked him profusely.

“Troy turned down my trash cans and the hanging sculpture I planned. I pounded on that thing for days!” she pouted. “But he loved this bench. And you got it all for free, Sophie. Thanks to me.”

“I am actually very grateful, Natasha. But don’t forget that it’s not completely free. I still have to pay taxes on it.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“That’s the way it works,” I insisted.

Natasha turned to Leon. “Why didn’t you tell me this? It can’t be. Mars will know. Maaaars!” She toddled off.

Leon waved his hands in the air. “I know what you’re thinking, but she pays well.”

I was surprised to see Mona and Anne’s friend Shelby. “I’m so glad you came!”

Mona patted my shoulder. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I’ve been by every day to watch the progress. I
had
to see the finished product.” She took my hands into hers. “And I have to thank you for returning the one thing on this earth that I love with all my heart. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“No thanks necessary, Mona.” I wanted to ask how Anne and Wolf were doing, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Maybe it was better if I didn’t know. “Just one question. What were you doing in the woods, spying on Roscoe’s party?”

She had the decency to blush. “I was following you. I thought you might meet Wolf somewhere or lead me to something, anything, that might be a clue to Anne’s whereabouts. And you did! You managed to lose me on the day you dug up Anne’s purse—but I found you!”

Shelby sipped a lemon slush. “Boy, that Cricket is a piece of work. She threw away the notes Anne left for Wolf and her parents and then buried Anne’s purse in the backyard so that suspicion would fall on Wolf if they were ever found.”

“What about the knife? Was it rust or blood?” I asked.

“Hey, Kenner! Get over here,” called Shelby.

I’d never seen Kenner in shorts before. Was Shelby ogling his legs? They were fairly muscular.

“Tell Sophie about Cricket. She wants to know about the knife,” demanded Shelby.

Kenner took a deep breath. It had to be hard on him, since he’d been friends with Cricket. He swallowed uncomfortably. “The knife was just rusted. Probably got thrown out by mistake.”

“Tell her about the embezzlement!” insisted Mona.

“Cricket and Heath set up fake companies and paid their invoices from Roscoe’s business accounts. It took
them some time to accumulate the money, but the plan worked pretty well. Apparently, Heath didn’t realize that Cricket double-crossed him by using his computer passwords to funnel the money to accounts in the name of Anne Fleishman, leaving a paper trail that led to Heath and Anne.”

Mona shook her finger. “Which Cricket had set up without Anne’s knowledge.”

Kenner continued. “But the plan went south when Anne started to audit Roscoe’s business. Cricket knew Anne would recognize the scheme in a flash, so Cricket had to get her out of town—and quick. Then Cricket ratted on Heath and Anne—”

“And got the credit for getting the money back!” cried Mona.

“So Anne never had an affair with Heath?” I asked.

Kenner sighed. “No. It was Cricket who was involved with Heath. But he knew a lucky break when he saw one. If Roscoe had pressed charges, Heath would have done serious time. He was more than ready to get out of town.”

“I wish I’d met this Cricket,” said Shelby. “She must be a master of manipulation. She zeroed in on Anne’s insecurities and guilt. Imagine sending Anne a picture of a stranger’s child so she would think Cricket and Wolf had a happy family and would stay away. What a witch! It’s lucky for Anne that she believed Cricket was her best friend and wouldn’t lie to her. If Anne had come back, she would be as dead as Heath.”

“So it
was
Cricket who murdered Heath?” I asked.

Kenner looked pained. “When Heath came back to Old Town, he discovered that his old partner in crime, Cricket, was engaged to Audie and about to enter the inner circle of Greene money. He demanded his fair share of money from her, threatening to expose her role in the embezzlement if she didn’t pay. She mollified him with an expensive duck print.”

“I thought Violet hid it in the guest house.”

“Cricket saw her stash it there during Roscoe’s picnic. But she was ready to get rid of blackmailing Heath for
good the next night. She met him in the guest house with a bottle of bourbon that contained monkshood tea.”

“Then, when he died, she dragged him across the flower bed, covered him with the mulch, and managed to get poison ivy in the process!” I exclaimed.

“What I don’t understand,” said Shelby, “is why she used that horrible monkshood on Heath but poisoned Mindy with foxglove. Why switch when the monkshood obviously worked so well?”

“Time,” I said. “She had time to let Mindy die, but she didn’t expect Heath to show up. She had to get rid of him in a hurry.”

“The more I know you, the more you frighten me.” Kenner was speaking to me, but busy looking at Shelby, who was making eyes at him.

“Sophie!” called Troy.

I excused myself and dashed over to him. Baby back ribs, chicken, and corn on the cob still wrapped in the husks cooked on the grill.

Troy gathered everyone around the table, made a lovely toast, and dinner was on!

I felt incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful, caring friends.

Daylight waned as we finished our main course. Troy flipped a switch. Small lights shone in the lofted ceiling and along the roofline, producing
oohs
and
aahs
of admiration.

I was in the kitchen putting on another pot of coffee when Francie growled at me. “Are you trying to choke us?” She held a piece of coffeecake on a napkin.

Bernie ambled in to help me.

“Not good?” I asked.

“Ghastly,” pronounced Bernie.

One of Francie’s eyes squeezed almost closed. “What in tarnation did you put in this thing?”

I broke a piece off, popped it into my mouth, and promptly spit it out. When I stepped on the garbage bin
lever to open it, Francie guffawed at the collection of paper napkins and uneaten coffee cake inside.

“Hah! No one else can eat it, either.”

“Natasha baked it.” I couldn’t imagine what she put in it, except for the chipotle, which burned my mouth.

“That figures,” said Francie. “You should have warned us.”

“But it looked wonderful,” I said.

Natasha floated into the kitchen, beaming. “Troy says I’m gorgeous on camera.”

Francie stared her down. “What’s in the poisoned coffee cake?”

Natasha glared back. “I wish you wouldn’t use words like that about my baking. Someone might believe you.”

I tried a gentler approach. “What kind of coffee cake is it, Natasha?”

“I’ll gladly give you a copy of the recipe. It’s bacon, rhubarb, and chipotle.”

Francie sneered. “Ugh! No wonder it’s inedible.”

Natasha tilted her head and smiled condescendingly at Francie. “Oh, sweetheart, your palate just isn’t developed. You’re not used to haute cuisine.”

“I am,” said Bernie. “It’s simply dreadful.”

The edges of Francie’s mouth twitched. “That stuff is more like hot cuisine. Thanks to you, I won’t be able to taste anything for the next two days.”

Natasha flapped her fingers at Francie. “Nonsense. You can’t just eat bland food, Francie. The chipotle will heighten your senses and make your blood flow.”

“So far it’s making my blood boil.”

I grinned at their exchange. My life would be different without Wolf, but it was reassuring to know that some things never change.

Arnold Palmer

4 bags black tea

4 cups boiling water

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

1 cup fresh lemon juice

3 cups cold water

Pour the boiling water over the four tea bags and allow to steep and cool.

Mix the sugar with 1 cup of water on the stove. Heat to dissolve the sugar. Add lemon juice to the sugar mixture and add the cold water.

Mix the tea with the lemonade.

Garden Veggie White Pizza

1 pizza crust

1 medium onion

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic

½ of an eggplant (or 1 small eggplant), diced

1 red pepper, sliced

¼ cup pesto

1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

½ cup shredded goat gouda or sharp white cheddar

Preheat the oven to 375. (Follow directions on crust package.) Sauté the onions in the olive oil to caramelize, then add the garlic, eggplant, and red pepper. Cook until soft, but not mushy. Spread pesto on the pizza crust. Scatter the vegetables on top of the pesto. Top with cheeses. Bake 25–30 minutes or until the crust is done.

Walnut Pesto

3 tablespoons walnuts

2 cups fresh basil leaves

2 teaspoons minced garlic

½ cup olive oil

½ cup Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Chop the walnuts in a small food processor. Add the basil leaves and garlic, and pulse. Slowly add the olive oil in a stream while pulsing, or add in small amounts and pulse in
between. Add the Parmesan cheese and pulse. Add salt and pepper to taste, and pulse one last time.

Pesto, Prosciutto & Goat Cheese Crostini

1 small loaf rustic Italian bread

½ cup pesto (approximate)

10–12 slices prosciutto

hard goat cheese (like Cablanca)

cherry tomatoes for garnish (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350. Slice the bread and spread pesto on each slice. Top with a slice of prosciutto. Using a vegetable peeler, peel thin slices of the cheese and add to the top. Bake 8–10 minutes, until cheese has melted. Garnish with half a cherry tomato.

Makes 10–12 servings.

Three-Day Crock Pickles

16 cups water

1 cup sea salt or kosher salt (not iodized salt)

½ teaspoon turmeric

½ teaspoon mustard seeds

½ cup sugar

1 cup cider vinegar

2 cloves garlic, minced

Dill

Small pickling cucumbers

Wash the cucumbers. Combine the water, salt, turmeric, mustard seeds, sugar, and vinegar. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally and tasting (add more salt or spices if not to your taste), and let cool. Put raw garlic into the crock or gallon jar. Add enough dill to cover the bottom. Pack the cucumbers into the jar or crock. Pour the cooled vinegar solution over the cucumbers. Cover loosely with cheesecloth, and let stand in the refrigerator for three days. Keep refrigerated.

Sunset Boulevard

1 part peach schnapps

2 parts vodka

3 parts cranberry juice

1 part orange juice

Fill a tall glass with ice. Pour in the first three ingredients. Slowly add the orange juice for the sunset effect.

Danish Apple Cake

¼ cup butter

1 ½ cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 egg

cup milk