Cooking Spirits: An Angie Amalfi Mystery (Angie Amalfi Mysteries) Page 16

  “What was that?”

  Enid smiled. “You’ll probably laugh, and I guess it is funny. Like I said it was a little thing, but I remember it clearly. She said that before the ghost showed up, she knew she was coming because ‘she smelled Joy’. Not until years later did I learned Joy was the name of a perfume!”

  Angie felt a cold chill. “Yes, my mother used to wear it as well. It’s a beautiful, expensive and memorable scent.”

  “Well, there you go! Maybe you are meant to buy the house,” Enid said with a chuckle. “Especially if the ghost shows up and you like her taste in perfume. Anyway, I never considered a perfume-wearing ghost to be anything that I or anyone else should be afraid of.”

  “Did you ever consider that your mother might have been right—that the house is haunted?”

  Enid laughed. “Of course not! If I had, I’m sure I’d have been sent to a loony bin like my mom.” She then grew much more serious. “I’m sorry to say that my mother spent her life grieving for my father. Unfortunately, while grieving for him, she forgot that she had a daughter who was very much alive. She gave me next to no attention as I grew up, and now that I’m an adult with my own family, I do what I must with her. No more, no less.”

  “I can’t say that I blame you for that,” Angie said, her expression sympathetic. She guessed she had been completely wrong about the landlady being in love with Eric if she grieved that desperately for her husband.

  But, while Angie could understand the portrait Enid had painted of Carol’s grief, she also saw how unfair it was to the child.

  Seeing Angie’s empathy, Enid continued, “I must admit she never seemed all that crazy to me, but once she started talking about ghosts, well, I couldn’t argue against sending her away.”

  Angie swallowed hard. “I guess not. Can you tell me…when did she start having these hallucinations and other problems?”

  “As long as I can remember, actually. As I say, she never got over my father's death. She mourned him every day and said he was the love of her life. She often said she wished she had died when he did, which would have meant I was never born. I don’t think she even considered that. I’ll tell you, it was a pretty devastating thing for a child to hear.”

  “I can imagine. How terrible for you, and tragic for her.”

  “She had no family, and neither did father. It’s hard to believe these days, but I don’t even have any pictures of him except one. She said she burned them all after he died because she was so angry with him for ‘getting himself killed by being stupid’ as she put it.”

  “Surely, she didn’t destroy her wedding pictures,” Angie said, knowing what a huge part of wedding planning the photo shoots would be.

  “She and my father eloped, so there weren’t any special wedding photos. Keep in mind that well before any doctor diagnosed her, my mother was ‘not quite right’ in the head. She kept one photo of my father, and she didn’t show it to me until years later. I have to say, he was every bit as handsome as she claimed him to be. If you’re interested, I’ll show you.”

  “Well…sure,” Angie said. She wasn’t particularly interested, but remembering Bill Fleming’s angry reaction when she implied she didn’t care to hear about him, she didn’t want to insult Enid.

  Enid went into another room and soon came out with a framed photo and handed it to Angie.

  Angie tried to keep her expression bland as she stared at the photo. Smiling back at her was Eric Fleming. Angie looked more carefully at Enid now. Her early suspicions about Carol Steed’s relationship with her tenant—at least while he was single—as well as the reason Carol suddenly found herself pregnant after thirteen years of marriage, were confirmed. Clearly, Enid had never seen Eric Fleming’s photo, and Angie wasn’t about to be the one to tell her. “So this is your father, Edward Steed?” Angie asked.

  “That’s right,” Enid said.

  “He was very handsome,” she said, handing the photo back. “And I do see the family resemblance. Thank you for showing me.”

  “It’s all I have of him,” Enid said, running her finger along the edge of the frame to remove dust. “People who have families are very lucky. That’s why my husband and I have four children. They’re grown up now, and are starting to have children of their own. We have three grandchildren so far and hope for many more. It’s a blessing to me. I often think if my mother weren’t so alone, she wouldn’t have had these mental problems. Now, she can’t even enjoy the family she has.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Angie said. “If you don’t object, I really would like try to speak to her one day soon. If I frighten her, I’ll quickly leave.”

  “Well, I won’t say no, although I doubt it’ll work out for you. I’ll give you a signed note so the care home will allow you in. I hope you won’t be too disappointed by how little she’ll be able to tell you.”

  “Me, too.”

  After writing the note, Enid walked Angie out to her car. “I also hope all this background information hasn’t soured you on the house,” Enid said. “It’s a lovely place, and deserves a happy, loving family in it. I think you may be just what it needs.”

  “Thank you,” Angie said as she got into the car. She had a lot to think about.

  o0o

  Paavo found an old receipt for a prescription of sleeping pills among Gaia’s financial papers, which made it likely she had taken the pills herself. The case looked more and more like suicide except for one problem—why?

  Back in Homicide, Paavo noticed that a cancelled check for $350.00 had just been posted to Gaia’s checking account. Apparently, no word had reached the bank that the account should have been closed.

  He got a copy of the check and saw it had been made out to Brian Riddingham on the Tuesday before Taylor Bedford died. Gaia almost never wrote out any checks.

  Paavo looked into Riddingham. Only one person with that name lived in San Francisco.

  A half-hour later he stood at Riddingham’s door, asking about the check.

  He learned that Brian and his wife had sold a white Kenmore freezer to Gaia Wyndom. They hadn’t cashed her check right away, and never realized she wasn’t still alive.

  They had been curious as to why Gaia wanted the freezer—usually a single woman living alone doesn’t want or need a large chest-type freezer. She wouldn’t say, paid the asking price, and hired someone who picked it up the very afternoon of the sale.

  Riddingham knew nothing more.

  No freezer had been found in Gaia’s house, and no clue as to what had happened to it.

  Paavo went to see Evelyn Ramirez, the Medical Examiner. “You were talking about time of death and strange findings on the body temperature. You said it might have been because the body had been in bathwater for some time before being found. What if there’s another reason? What if the body was frozen after death and then put in the bathtub to defrost?”

  “Sort of like quickly defrosting a turkey in water before Thanksgiving?” The M.E. said with a smirk, but then she gave it some thought. “You know, that could be it! That would make sense. But to freeze a human body? That would take—”

  “A large, chest-style freezer?”

  “Exactly.”

  Paavo’s next job was to find the freezer.

  He began phoning haulers and charitable organizations to see if any had pick-ups from Gaia Wyndom’s home. Hours later, he hit pay dirt: she had called a junk hauler to pick up a freezer and bring it to the dump. She had made the call on a Tuesday, one week after buying the freezer, and one day after she called in sick at work.

  Paavo met the truck driver and found the freezer relatively easily. He had it delivered to the CSU so the crime scene investigators could go over it with a fine-tooth comb.

  They found some hairs that matched Gaia’s, which made sense since it was her freezer, but nothing else.

  o0o

  Angie told herself she only chose to return to the house to check on the little dog.

  When she got there, she coul
dn’t find him. She hoped Paavo was right about him living in the neighborhood, and he had found his way home.

  Once in the house, however, she again had the sense of being welcomed, that this could be home for her and Paavo, a happy home.

  “All right. I can’t take this anymore,” she said to the walls. “Eric? Natalie? Are you here?” She suddenly had visions of herself as Cosmo Topper dealing with the ghosts of George and Marian Kirby. She had watched the old black and white film as well as the old TV shows many times as a child with her mother. She had found them hilarious back then. Now, not so much.

  “If there’s something here I should worry about, I want to know it. I don’t want to start out in a house with Paavo that is going to cause us grief. I need to know right now, immediately!”

  Nothing happened.

  Feeling increasingly foolish, she sat down on the sofa, waiting, but soon got up and went to the refrigerator. She had left an unopened bottle of Chardonnay in it the night of the séance. Sitting around waiting for ghosts to appear was definitely a reason for some wine.

  To her surprise, the wine was gone. She looked in the trash receptacle under the sink and found the empty bottle there.

  Who would have come in here and drunk her wine? That meant she wasn’t the only person interested in the house. But to drink a whole bottle? That seemed a bit rude!

  She opened the dishwasher. Inside were two stemmed glasses. She had washed, dried and put away the few glasses and dishes used for her séance ‘party’ the night before. What were these doing here? And why two of them?

  “Eric? Natalie?” Her voice quavered.

  Just then, she heard what sounded like the glass door in the living room sliding on its track, and then the ‘thud’ when it shut against the door frame. Had someone just entered the house? She froze, scared.

  It couldn’t have been a ghost, could it? They didn’t need to open doors to enter a room, did they? She quietly slid open a drawer to look for a knife for protection, but it held nothing more lethal than a butter knife. She took one out of desperation.

  Holding it with two hands, she peeked into the living room.

  It was empty.

  Cautiously, she eased her way to the glass door. It was unlocked. She snapped the lock into place. Had someone been inside the house when she entered, and snuck out when they heard her go into the kitchen?

  If so, she wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Faster than she thought possible, she ran out of the house to her car, locking the doors as soon as she got in. The little dog must have found its way home, and so would she.

  Chapter 24

  CAT ARRIVED AT Angie’s home at 10 a.m., surprisingly early, since Cat usually didn’t face the light of day until 9 a.m., and took another two hours to dress, fix her hair, and put on make-up.

  Last evening, Angie had phoned her and told her someone had been inside the Clover Lane house and left through the back door, leaving it unlocked. Cat then knew Angie had duplicated the house key and proceeded to lecture her about it. Angie assumed she was now here to demand the key.

  “Have you chosen a wedding planner yet?” Cat asked as she sauntered into the living room.

  Her words were a surprise. But if Cat wanted to make Angie feel bad, she had succeeded. “No,” Angie confessed. “I just don’t know what to do! I’m spending more time trying to find someone to hire than I am working on my wedding plans.”

  “What about your dress?” Cat asked.

  “No.”

  “Bridesmaids’ dresses?”

  “No!”

  “Wedding party?”

  “No!” Angie grew more frantic with each question.

  “All right, calm down. We’re going to do it this way. I’ll take charge of the clothes for everyone. Bianca, who’s the ‘people person,’ will handle the guest list, reservations, and dealing with caterers and so on; Maria and her husband will handle the music at the church and the reception, plus the photographer; Frannie will be in charge of decorating the church and the reception hall plus ordering all flowers, corsages, etc., for everyone who needs them; you, Angie, will take care of the invitations, meal, cake, and liquor plans, but once you choose the caterers, baker, and bartender, you turn everything all over to Bianca to handle. Plus, you will oversee and agree or disagree with what everyone else comes up with. Anything you don’t like will be changed. Now, stop fussing and start enjoying your wedding!”

  Angie was flabbergasted. Cat didn’t even ask if that was what she wanted or not. On the other hand, who knew her and her taste better than her sisters? Who could she more easily work with to get exactly what she wanted?

  She looked at Cat and smiled for the first time. This wedding might actually happen…in only four months! “Thank you!”

  The two then took off for the Bridal Boutique shop on Maiden Lane.

  “Miss Amalfi!” the owner cried. “Thank goodness you’re here!”

  Really? Angie thought that was a strange thing to say. “Kellie, this is my sister, Caterina Swenson,” Angie said. “She’s going to help me.”

  “Another sister?” Kellie looked a little sick.

  Now Angie was even more confused by the normally controlled woman.

  “I’m so glad to meet—” Kellie began when Cat cut her off.

  “I understand my sister liked a Vera Wang last time she was here. Can you show me the dress?”

  “Yes. Right this way.” Kellie led them back into the area where row after row of dresses hung on racks…and that was when Angie discovered why Kellie looked so stressed.

  Over at the bridesmaids’ dresses stood her mother and three sisters. Dresses were being pulled and tugged by the women, who were so engrossed arguing with each other they didn’t even notice that Angie and Cat had arrived.

  “Here’s the dress Angie liked,” Kellie said, taking one of the bride’s dresses from the rack.

  “Go ahead, Angie,” Cat told her. “Try it on. I’ll get the others to pay attention to what you’ll be wearing instead of their own dresses.”

  Kellie helped her into the dress and pinned it so that the floor model fit her the way it should after alterations.

  She stepped out into an area with a slightly raised platform, a half-circle of mirrors, and a place where the family sat. Her mother and all four sisters were sitting there, waiting for her to appear.

  She felt like a bride for the first time as all of them oohed and aahed as she stepped onto the platform. In a matter of seconds, however, the cries turned negative.

  “I see the problem,” Cat announced. “The mermaid line looks best on someone tall. It seems to emphasize her shortness.”

  “She looks like a little kid playing dress-up,” Bianca said.

  “Dumpy,” Frannie smirked.

  “Bellissima!” Serefina cried. “But not right.”

  “Bleah!” was Maria’s comment.

  “What about that one,” Angie pointed to another Vera Wang she thought was beautiful.

  The second dress one didn’t even get praise as she walked out of the dressing room.

  “Nope, too poofy,” Maria announced.

  “Too much frou-frou on it,” Cat said.

  “Bellissima!” Serefina cried. “She looks like Cinderella going to the ball. But, maybe Cinderella isn’t right for a wedding.”

  Frannie just looked at her, pointed, and laughed.

  “Thanks loads,” Angie said. This was like being stuck in a bridal intervention from hell. She liked both those dresses.

  “Let’s go step by step,” Cat said. “What kind of bodice do you like?”

  “Lots of detail.”

  “Strapless?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Cat faced the others. “No mermaid, no poofs, detailed bodice. Got it?”

  While Serefina sat beside Angie, holding her hand, the sisters turned into whirling dervishes going through the sample dresses, pulling out and rejecting one after the other. Kellie tried to interfere a couple of times and
soon learned her help wasn’t needed and definitely not wanted. After about fifteen minutes of this, Frannie cried out “Ah ha!”

  She pulled out a Lazaro crepe satin A-line gown with a silver embroidered overlay, jeweled bodice with a strapless curved neckline, and a sweep train. The embroidered overlay on the satin was highly detailed and quite gorgeous.

  “Hmm,” Bianca said, taking the dress from Frannie. “It’s very traditional. The line is simple but elegant, the embroidery on the overlay is stunning.

  “It reminds me of the dress Kate Middleton wore when she married into the British royal family,” Cat said, “except that hers had long sleeves with lace up to her neck in front, and a somewhat different shape to it.”

  “And didn’t have a silver embroidered overlay or jeweled bodice,” Maria added.

  “I’ll try it on,” Angie said.

  After the fitters helped her into it, Angie had to blink a couple of times that it was really her. The long drop of the A-line gown against her slim form gave the impression of both elegance and height, and the magnificently jeweled and detailed bodice gave her relatively flat chest some depth. Even the train, which Angie didn’t think she wanted, looked beautiful.

  She stepped out of the dressing room and up onto the platform.

  To her amazement, mother and sisters were completely silent.

  Cat got up, lifted an eyebrow as she slowly walked all the way around. “What do you think, Angie?”

  “It surprises me. It’s nothing like what I thought I wanted.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it!”

  “Bellissima! Ah, my baby is going to get married.” Serefina said, then she started to cry. “I’m getting so old!”

  The others burst into a cacophony of words about how beautiful the dress looked on her.

  “Let’s see it with a veil,” Cat said to Kellie. “I’d like to see silk tulle with a trim of individual flowers hand-cut from lace. Something delicate, and that will look beautiful with a diamond comb to hold it in place.”