Cooking Spirits: An Angie Amalfi Mystery (Angie Amalfi Mysteries) (11 page)

“Yes, that’s what everyone says,” Nancy said dismissive
sigh. “We can do that. We
always
do that.
Rose
bouquets, matchbooks and candles as favors.
I’ve got it covered. But
tell me, what are your interests? Do you work? What about the groom? What does
he do?”

“My main interest is in cooking. I’ve had a variety of jobs
involved with haute cuisine, but nothing currently. My fiancé is a homicide
inspector.”

“Oh. Well…let’s see. We could have a huge variety of foods
at the wedding dinner.”

“Yes, we could,” Angie said, not impressed. “I’ll take care
of the food.”

Nancy’s face suddenly brightened. “Did you say the groom is
a homicide detective?”

“Yes, we call them inspectors in San Francisco.”

“You know, you might be one of the few people who actually
can have a unique wedding! Few can, you know. Most brides and grooms have incredibly
boring jobs in big office buildings or shops. But for you, oh my God! We can
actually do something fun”

She suddenly jumped to her feet. Angie just gawked at her.
“Finally, something different from the usual!
I know, let’s
get crazy!”

“Crazy?” Angie gulped.

“We can put yellow crime scene tape all around the reception
hall! And maybe draw a chalk figure on the floor, you know, where the body was
found. In fact, we could draw two chalk figures, a bride and a groom! Wouldn’t
that be
hilarious!
”

“Hilarious?” Angie said, horrified at the idea.

Nancy didn’t notice.
“Of course!
The wedding as the scene of the crime! That is truly unique! And you said
you’ll be getting married in a church, right?”

Angie blanched, having a good guess as to what was coming.
“Correct.
A very old world, traditional Catholic church.”

“Hmm…I wonder if they’d let us put crime scene tape up and
down the aisle. They shouldn’t object to that. Oh! Oh! Another idea! We could
use toy guns—squirt guns—as party favors! Your guests could have so much fun
shooting each other! And you and the groom!
I’m just loving
it! I’ve done so many weddings that are all alike.
Every last
one of them, the same thing over and over and over.
But this, I’m
loving
! And I can tell
you’re
loving
it, too, aren’t you?”

Without saying a word, Angie stood up and left the shop.

 o0o

Angie wasn’t surprised when Paavo came to her apartment that
night. She knew she had worried him the night before, showing up at his place
because she’d been so frightened by the strangeness on Clover Street. She had
worried herself, and had replayed in her head every horror film she had ever
seen until fatigue overtook her.

Now, she wanted to tell him that episode in her life was
over. She had already forgotten about the house...mostly. But first, she put
her arms around him and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, enjoying
staring into his translucent blue eyes.

 “So am I.” He continued to hold her. “I’ve now got two
murders instead of one and I expect things to heat up soon. But tonight, I’m
free and I’d like to see the house you’re so excited about. I’ve been thinking
about what you said about us finding our own place.” He drew her closer,
studying her as he added, “You’re right. We need to do that.”

She stepped back and gaped at him. “I am?”

“Definitely.”
He smiled. “I like
the idea.
A lot.”

“
Uhhh
…”

His brows crossed slightly. “Have you changed your mind
about it?”

“No.” Even to her ear, her voice sounded strangely high.

“Good! The Sea Cliff house sounds like a real find. And if
the murders of tenants thirty years ago have other buyers spooked, we might be
able to get it at an even better price.”

Angie shivered at the word “spooked.” Paavo didn’t notice.

“That could be.” She scooted over to the coffee table and
started straightening the bridal magazines spread over it.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked.

“No.”

He stared at her,
then
sat on the
sofa. “What’s going on, Angie?” When she didn’t answer right away, he
continued. “Is this about the murders? You’ve been through enough cases with me
to know there’s nothing to be afraid of. Murders are rare, but they happen in
big cities. You’ve never let that kind of thing bother you before.”

She put down the magazines, took a few deep breaths and
said, “You’re right.” She nodded. “It shouldn’t bother me.”

“Good. So…shall we go see it?”

Her mind roiled. If she told him her earlier decision, she
would sound like an idiot.

“Angie?” he said.

She walked over to the picture window, looking out at the
lights of the city rather than facing him. “Well…”

He watched her, then stepped up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her shoulders. Drawing her back against him, he kissed her ear, her
cheek,
then
said. “Tell me
what’s
the matter
. Did someone else beat us to it?”

“No…that’s not it.”

“Are we unable to see it for some reason?”

“No…Caterina, uh, gave me a key. She knows how interested I
was.
Am.”

“Well, then?”

She turned to face him. She felt as if the word stuck in her
throat, but finally she forced it out, and squawked, “Okay.”

o0o

Angie unlocked the door and slowly, nervously, pushed it
open. She stuck her head inside. “Hello!” she called loudly. “We’re here to see
the house. Is anybody home? It’s Angelina Amalfi and Inspector Paavo Smith of
the San Francisco Police Department!”

“Angie, what are you doing?” Paavo asked. “The whole
neighborhood doesn’t need to know our names. Besides, I thought you said the
house is empty.”

“It is, but sometimes other people come to see it, and if
anyone else is here”—she swallowed hard—“I want to be sure they know you’re a
cop and we shouldn’t be messed with.”

“This is hardly an area where you have to worry about such
things,” Paavo said. “Are you going to let us in, or will we spend the night on
the front porch?”

“You’re right, since we’re here, you should see it. It’s
just that it’s not daytime. In the daylight you’d be able to see how beautiful
the view is, and in the dark, you can’t and—”

He reached around her, pushed the door open and walked in.
He flipped on the lights, and Angie could see his amazement. He didn’t say a
word as went through the living, dining and kitchen areas, then returned to the
living room, opened the sliding glass door to the garden and stepped out.

The moon sat low on the horizon, casting a ray of light onto
the ocean. The area around them was so dark they could see thousands of stars
overhead, a rare occurrence in foggy San Francisco where even on clear nights
the city lights were so bright few stars were visible. The waves lapping on the
beach far below created a serene, calming sound. Even Angie, despite her angst
at what would greet them inside the house, had to admit that the heavens were
putting on quite a show for Paavo.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded soft and
awe-filled. “It’s not daylight, but even now, I can get a sense of how
beautiful this is.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said. His expression was serious,
thoughtful. “Do you think, Paavo, we could be happy here?”

He faced her. “To be wherever you are,
Angel,
makes me happy. I don’t want or need anything else.”

“That’s how I feel, too,” she said and kissed him.

They went back inside and he saw that the master bedroom had
the same ocean view as the main rooms. “Hmm…someone wearing perfume must have
been in here recently,” Paavo said. “It’s a good scent. I like it.”

Angie noticed it, too—just as she’d noticed it earlier with
Caterina. But now, realizing it wasn’t Cat’s perfume, she recognized the scent.
Her mother used all the time when Angie was young—Joy by Jean
Patou
. Her heart started to pound. Who would have been here
wearing it?

Paavo quickly took in the master bedroom and bath, the room
Angie called a “den or nursery,” and the two bedrooms and bath upstairs.

Angie tried to ignore the perfume, which seemed to follow
them wherever they went. But she couldn’t, and grew more nervous with each
passing moment.

“Let’s see the garage,” Paavo said.

Angie led him to it. “There’s a big area in the back with
room for tools, a lawn mower, all kinds of stuff.”

“I’ll have to buy a lawn mower if we live here.” Paavo slung
his arm over Angie’s shoulders. “I guess that’ll mean I’m really a married
man.”

His simple words touched her heart. “A rite of passage, I’d
say. But no matter where we live, you’ll really be a married man.” She smiled
up at him. “I know seeing this at night isn’t ideal. You can’t tell a thing
about the paint, the roof, the yard…all those important things. But as to the
feel of the place, the layout…?”

They returned to the living room and she watched him look
over the woodwork, the large stone fireplace, the hardwood floors, high
ceilings. “It’s a good house for us,” he said. “You’re right that I’d want to
see it in daylight, but I find it hard to imagine that my impression will
change.”

Paavo’s positive reaction thrilled her. The house put on
quite a show for him, she thought. For the first time, she felt welcome
here…despite the perfume. What had she been worried about?

She watched him as he stood at the living room windows and
looked out at the ocean, the big tough detective who was also the kindest, most
gentle man she had ever known. Yes, she thought. She could see the two of them
happily living in this house.

“What are you thinking, Paavo?” she asked stepping to his
side.

His hand clasped hers. “I know you’ve got some concerns
about this house’s past.”

“Not me!” she said quickly. “It was all Connie’s fault! She
pointed out that with the furniture here, she felt as if the prior tenants
could walk into the house at any time—that she felt their presence! But Cat
explained the furniture is simply to ‘stage’ the house so it looks better.”

“Connie, hum?” he said.

“That’s right!” she insisted.

“So if we bought the house, the furniture stays?”

“No way!
For one thing, all this
furniture is over thirty years old!”

“Practically antiques,” Paavo said, trying not to smile.

“I particularly can’t wait to get rid of that sofa.” She
pointed to the overly modern, low back, no arm sofa in moss green with gold
lame stripes. “It’s butt-ugly, if you ask me.”

Just then, a watercolor of a mountain lake in the dining
area fell off the wall. Angie started so badly she nearly jumped out of her
skin.

Paavo went over to it and found that the nail still
protruded from the wall, so he simply had to lift the picture up and rehang it.
“Odd,” he said.

That did it! Wide-eyed, she looked all around.
Time to get out.
No sense pushing her luck. “Let’s lock up
and get out of here,” she said, speaking more rapidly than she thought
possible. “I’m suddenly ravenous for dinner. Let’s find a place to eat.
Fast!”

Chapter 13

GAIA WYNDOM’S CELL phone bill lay
on Paavo’s desk when he arrived at Homicide the next morning. He had been
unable to find any indication that she had a cell phone in her home, and even
her employment records showed only a landline. The landline showed no personal
calls beyond her boss trying to check on her health. Once again, Paavo had been
left wondering if the woman had any kind of a life.

Yet, indications were that she had an affair with Taylor
Bedford, hard though it was to believe. She might have had a split personality
but they still needed some way to communicate.

He did a check of AT&T, Sprint, Verizon, and
T-Mobile—the big carriers in the San Francisco area—and sure enough, a cell
phone record for her showed up with AT&T.

Call after call went to one number only—Taylor Bedford’s
cell phone. Long calls were made in the evening, and just a few short ones on
weekends. The pattern of calls confirmed the story the bartender at
Harrigan’s
told
Yosh
. Taylor
Bedford and Gaia
Wyndom
were having an affair.

He looked over Bedford’s cell service and discovered he had
two cell phones, along with a family landline. One was for calls related to his
business and his wife; the second was exclusively for Gaia.

From what he and
Yosh
had learned
about the two victims, it was hard to imagine them together. But then Otto Link
had also made suggestive comments about Bedford. Maybe he was the Casanova of
the tool and die trade.

Paavo called
Larina
Bedford into
Homicide. She had acted so poised and self-assured at her
home,
he wanted her in a less comfortable environment.

Homicide’s administrative assistant escorted her to the
interview room. Paavo allowed her to sit alone in it for nearly ten minutes
before joining her. The windowless room, with cameras in the ceiling, one gray
metal table and four cold, hard metal chairs was intimidating. It often made
people so nervous they couldn’t hide their lies.

While
Yosh
observed from outside
the room, Paavo entered it.

“Do you have news, Inspector?”
Larina
said without even a preliminary “hello.” She appeared to be anything but
intimidated.

“Something new has turned up.” He sat across from her and
opened a folder, taking out Gaia
Wyndom’s
photo. “Do
you know this woman?”

Larina
looked at it a long moment.
“I do not.”