The Diva Digs up the Dirt (17 page)

A heavenly scent floated from the waffle maker. I removed the first waffle to a square Portmeirion plate with leaves that trailed all the way around the edge, then added more batter to the waffle iron. A dollop of vanilla yogurt went on top of the plated waffle, topped by a generous
helping of sweet strawberries and juicy blueberries mixed together with just a breeze of sugar and the tiniest squeeze of lemon. I placed it in front of Mona.

“Thank you, dear!” Mona searched her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. “We gave her every opportunity to excel, and all she wanted to do was stay home. She was meek. Always happiest puttering in the dirt or embroidering. It wasn’t until she was gone that I understood what I had done. It was all about me.
My
competitive nature,
my
competition with my sister,
my
desire to wear tailored suits and be a professional. I was trying to make her into what I had wanted for myself.”

I delivered the second waffle to Nina.

“Thanks, Soph. This smells delish! Mona, honey, I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself. Don’t all parents try to help their children be all they can be?”

“You know what my husband tells me?” Mona lowered her voice to mimic a man. “‘Mona, you tortured that girl when she was alive. Why don’t you finally let her rest in peace?’” Her voice broke. “And now she’ll never know that she didn’t have to be a modern do-it-all businesswoman. I loved her for the kind, gentle person she was, but now I’ll never have the chance to tell her!”

After preparing my waffle, I patted Mona’s shoulder and wished I could do or say something to comfort her. I sat down at the table between Nina and Mona. “Did they find anything else at Wolf’s yesterday?”

“No. They’re going to dig more today. It’s so tedious.” Mona sipped her coffee. “I think I’m too old to stand around and watch. But I’m going over there as soon as I’m done here. Thank you so much for this lovely breakfast. I haven’t eaten a bite since they found the bloody knife.”

I stopped eating. It was that kind of thing that bugged me about her. The discoloration could just as easily be rust. “So what brought you here?”
To my bedroom!
I stopped short of saying it. “What did you want in my closet?”

Mona had the decency to blush. “Clues. You didn’t have
anything of Anne’s that I could see. Did Wolf tell you anything more?” Mona asked.

Did she really think I would tell her if he had?
“I’m sorry, Mona. You probably know much more than I do. And I have nothing that belonged to your daughter!”

She patted my hand. “I believe you, sweetheart. It’s just… Well, I don’t think he would have buried her in their yard. True, if
I
had murdered someone, I would think the most logical place to hide the body would be in my own private yard, where no one would see me doing it, and where I would know no one else would dig.” Her mouth twitched into a grin. “You sort of blew that for him.”

“But since Anne’s”—I stopped short of saying
killer
and rephrased my point, after all, this was her
mother
—“purse was buried there, wouldn’t the person have also buried her there?”

Mona finished her waffle. “That was wonderful, thank you. You can say his name, you know—Wolf. Since Wolf buried her purse there, wouldn’t Wolf have also hidden her body there? No. Wolf is a cop. He would have buried things in different locations to throw everyone off.”

She was testing my patience with her insistence that Wolf had killed Anne. “Mona, isn’t it possible that someone else killed her? Like her lover?”

Mona gasped and clutched the white beads around her neck. “There was no lover! If there had been, Wolf would have been the first to point it out to throw suspicion on someone else.” A gurgle rose through her throat and she hacked. “Unless he killed her
because
of the lover!” She wrung her hands. “Where did you hear about this? Did Wolf admit it to you? I knew you had information.”

My little attempt at eliciting information from her backfired on me big time. How would I get out of this? As calmly and casually as I possibly could, I said, “Wolf insists there was never another man in Anne’s life.”

Nina’s head swiveled toward me, her eyes huge. She must have figured out that I had spoken to Wolf after we
left his house yesterday. Thankfully, she didn’t spill the beans to Mona.

Mona fixed me with a squinty stare. “Then why did you mention it?”

“To see if Wolf was lying to me.”
Ohhhh! Why did I say that?
It sounded like I didn’t trust him, which wasn’t what I meant at all.

Placing her hand over mine, she asked, “Where is Wolf?”

I leaned toward her, like I was going to confide something. “I don’t know.”

“You can tell me,” she whispered. “I’m only trying to protect you from the same fate as my Anne.”

“I still don’t know.”

Her lips pursed, and she stared at Nina. “I suppose you don’t know, either?”

“Don’t have the first clue,” said Nina.

Mona placed her hands on the table and rose from her chair, stiff and slow. “You’re a nice girl, Sophie, I’m glad that Wolf hasn’t murdered you—yet. Don’t fight me, darling. We’re stronger when we work together.”

I saw her to the front door and watched as she toddled away. I had no allegiance to her, and I was still boiling mad that she had putzed around my house while I slept, yet I couldn’t help feeling just sick for her. If I were in her position, I would probably be every bit as frantic. Who knew what strange things I might do for the tiniest lead if I were in her shoes?

When I returned to the kitchen, Nina asked, “What was she doing here? And why didn’t you tell me you saw Wolf?”

“I haven’t had a chance. Mona was in my closet when I woke up! She said Natasha let her in.”

“Don’t underestimate Mona.”

I was pouring myself a mug of coffee when Natasha opened the door and flounced into my kitchen. She wore a large robin’s-egg-blue hat with netting over her face that she lifted.

“What are you doing?” She seized the coffeepot. “That’s not for you!”

“Let’s see… my house, my kitchen, my coffee.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s for Troy.”

I held out my hand. “I would like my keys back, please.”

She pulled them from a ruffled pocket in her blue and white toile apron and readily gave them to me.

It was too easy. “You have copies, don’t you?”

“Mars likes to have a set on hand.” She must have noticed my expression of disbelief. “To collect Daisy.”

“Mars isn’t the one who let a stranger in my house this morning while I was asleep.”

She gasped. “That’s horrible. Who would do a thing like that?”

Nina burst into laughter.

“Apparently you would,” I said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Did you, or did you not, allow a little old lady to enter my home this morning?”

“Mona. Of course, but she’s not a stranger. She’s family.”

That was news to me. “You’re related to Mona?”

“Sometimes you’re so dense, Sophie. She said she was Wolf’s mother-in-law and a friend of yours. She was looking for Wolf and wanted to know if he was here. I was busy with Troy, so I told her to go ahead and look for Wolf.”

So that was it. Mona thought Wolf was taking refuge in my house and wanted to see for herself. How convenient for her that Natasha had simply let her in. That didn’t explain her presence in my closet, unless she told the truth about snooping for Anne’s belongings. Did she think I was hiding Anne in there?

“You just accepted what she said? She could have been anyone.”

Natasha flipped her hand at me like I was an annoying mosquito. “Are you saying she’s not Wolf’s mother-in-law?”

Oh brother. Now Natasha had caught me. Not my best day. Nevertheless, it wasn’t unreasonable of me to be put
out with her. “You had no idea who that woman was. She could have stolen things or stabbed me while I slept.”

“Everything turned out fine. You have such a penchant for drama.”

Nina sat back, clutching her coffee mug in both hands. “So what exactly is that you’re wearing, Natasha?”

“Aren’t they darling? I just had to get them on camera so the people at the network could see what I can do with merchandising. I was up all night working on them. Isn’t this the most stunning gardening hat you’ve ever seen? It’s big, to keep the sun off your eyes and shoulders, and it has this netting in case the bugs are being annoying. I have another one to wear tomorrow with little packets of seeds on it. The apron will be for sale, too. I’m thinking of calling the line ‘Natasha’s Garden Couture.’”

Nina and I stared at her. I didn’t think she was joking.

“Too many people dress like you, Sophie,” she added. “An old T-shirt and shorts or, heaven forbid, sweats, which are simply ghastly. There’s no reason we can’t be beautiful when we garden.”

She’d said two words that resonated with me—
the network
. “That’s what this is all about? You think when the people at the network see you, they’ll give you the national show you’ve always wanted? That’s why you set up this whole backyard garage business with Troy?” I knew she had an ulterior motive!

“Why are you upset? You
do
need a garage. If I happen to come to the attention of a network executive in the process, then it’s all good.”

“So I’m right. That’s why you lied to Troy and said I was a little old lady!”

“I would never call you that, Sophie. But you are short and you’re not getting any younger.”

Nina checked her watch. “We need to get going to check on the cat, Soph. If it’s in the trap, I don’t want it to overheat.”

I dashed up the stairs to change, smirking over the fact that I didn’t have a ruffly, sequined cat-catching outfit and
would have to wear skorts and a top that would surely horrify Natasha.

A sleeveless white V-neck seemed crisp and cool for the blistering day ahead. I paired it with navy-blue skorts and white thong sandals. Sweeping my hair up off my neck in a modified French twist to stay cool, I pinned it with a big clip and then added navy and white enameled earrings. I passed on necklaces and bracelets, since I wasn’t sure what cat chasing might entail.

Nina drove this time.

When we stepped out of the car at Roscoe’s house, Nina paused and searched the windows. “I don’t see Mrs. Danvers. Bet she sees us, though.”

We walked around the side of the house.

“Psst.” Nina nudged me. “What did I tell you? Mrs. Danvers is watching us.”

She floated from room to room like an apparition, peering out windows and keeping track of us. I shuddered. “Why is she so creepy?”

In the backyard, Mars and Roscoe strolled along under the arcing limbs of trees at the rear of the property. The heat hadn’t set in yet, but the sun had shone long enough to do away with the dew. Mars waved at us, but Roscoe appeared to be deep in thought.

“Is it my imagination or does the manure smell worse today?” asked Nina.

The stench impressed me as worse than it was the day of the party. It appeared that at least some of the mulch had been spread, but the odor was still extremely powerful.

I scanned the yard for any sign of the calico cat. “I don’t see the cat. Maybe she’s in the trap!”

We walked toward the pond, passing the host of summery white daisies with huge heads. Once again, I admired the bed of delphiniums on my way. But today, some of them had been bent back and broken. Had Violet chased the cat through them?

Beyond the bed was one of the sprawling piles of mulch that waited to be spread. Someone had worked with it
recently. The mulch on the top and right side was darker and appeared somewhat moister, as if recently uncovered. My gaze drifted down to the plants that had been destroyed. At the very bottom of the pile of mulch, a hand reached out toward the flowers.

I screamed and jumped back. A chill ran through me before it dawned on me that it might be a gag.

“What is it?” Nina searched the grass around us in a panic. “Is it the cat? Was it poisoned?

My scream caught the attention of Mars and Roscoe.

Mars called across the lawn. “Are you all right? Is it a snake?”

He knew my weaknesses. I loved the outdoors but didn’t deal well with snakes, and my former husband knew that. I shook my head and stepped around the bed of delphiniums to see better. My hands quivered.

“Damaged flowers?” asked Nina—just before screaming like a victim in a horror movie. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Nina’s scream brought Mars running. Roscoe lumbered behind him, unable to keep up.

I leaned over for a closer look, my heart pounding.

“It’s plastic, right? Please tell me it’s fake!” Nina grasped Mars’s arm.

Another wave of chills rippled through me. They could do amazing things with plastic, but the hand was definitely real. I stood up straight and tried to speak calmly. “Better call 911.”

Roscoe joined us, pale and gasping for breath. “Call 911? Something bite you?”

Mars pointed toward the hand.

I felt as queasy as Roscoe appeared. It seemed only minutes ago that I’d felt comfortable in the morning air, but I’d broken into a sweat, and the sun had begun to bake us.

“Bottom of the mulch pile, Roscoe,” said Mars.

Roscoe leaned forward, swaying a bit. His eyes widened when he spotted the hand. “Audie! Where’s Audie? I haven’t seen him today!”

I took one look at his drawn face and said, “I think you’d better sit down.” I returned, skirting the flower bed to avoid contaminating a crime scene. Mars grasped one of Roscoe’s arms, and even though the sight of the hand had
zapped my strength, I grabbed the other. We helped him to a cast-iron bench in the shade by the delphiniums.