Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries) (17 page)

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Authors: Lee Hollis

BOOK: Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries)
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“Because he’s working with the president. He’s a key player in the plot to subjugate the citizens of this country. I tried to warn my mother but she wouldn’t listen. She always saw the best in people. She thought I was looney tunes.”
The Mother’s Day card that Bradley sent Karen.
Get out of town now or you’re going to die.
Of course.
It wasn’t a threat. It was a warning.
Hayley suddenly felt confident that Bradley had nothing to do with his mother’s murder. But her ex-husband, Martin, well that was a different matter altogether.
Chapter 28
 
After leaving Bradley, Hayley drove back across the island at lightning speed hoping to make another stop before she was due at the office. She knew Martin Applebaum ate breakfast every morning at Jordan’s coffee shop on Cottage Street. That’s where he met his latest girlfriend, one of the waitresses, who took his usual order of scrambled eggs and sausage links and a cup of black coffee.
Hayley pulled up in front of the restaurant, and almost forgot to put the car in PARK as she leaped out in a race to get to Martin before he finished eating.
Once inside, Hayley was greeted by the hefty blond hostess, an Eastern European immigrant with a gruff exterior who rarely cracked a smile. But Hayley knew she was a sweet girl who just hadn’t quite learned the requirements yet for the position of perky hostess. The girl had a giant chest so a lot of the local lobstermen and electricians were quick to cut her some slack.
“Good morning, Hayley,” the girl said flatly.
“Hi, Tatiana, I was wondering if you have seen ...”
She didn’t have to finish her sentence. As she glanced around the restaurant, she was suddenly blinded by bright turquoise. It was Martin Applebaum’s shirt for the day, and it was just as loud and obnoxious as the man who wore it.
“Never mind.”
“You want the blueberry stuffed pancakes today?”
Hayley stopped. She hadn’t eaten breakfast. Well, she did have a bagel earlier, but that didn’t really count as breakfast. And their pancakes were, after all, a signature dish.
“Sure. Just bring them on over to Martin’s table.”
Tatiana nodded, and went into the kitchen to place the order.
Hayley crossed to the corner booth, waving to a few people she knew seated around the main room before sliding into the booth, opposite Martin, who was intently scraping the last remnants of scrambled egg into a little pile with his fork. Then, using his thumb, he pushed the egg onto his fork and shoveled the remaining bits into his mouth.
He finally noticed Hayley sitting across from him. His look of surprise would’ve been comical if she hadn’t found him so repulsive.
“Good morning, Martin,” Hayley chirped.
“Morning,” he said, chewing his eggs and looking a bit uneasy.
“I was just over at your son Bradley’s house. You should see what he’s done with the place. A decorator’s dream!”
Martin didn’t respond. He swallowed his eggs and slurped the last of his coffee. Then he put down his ceramic cup and stared at Hayley.
“What on earth possessed you to go all the way over there?”
“I wanted to find out why he didn’t attend his mother’s funeral.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“That you forbade him to go.”
“Bradley’s a big boy. He’s long stopped listening to me.”
“Why didn’t you want him there?”
“Is it really necessary for me to answer that? He’s unstable. His brain is out of whack. I didn’t want him there causing a ruckus and maybe hurting someone.”
“You’re right. He does need help. But you don’t seem all that interested.”
Martin raised his cup and shook it, signaling his waitress—who also happened to be his lover—to scoot over with a fresh pot of coffee. She was startled to see Hayley sitting in the booth with her boyfriend.
A suspicious frown formed on her face. Was Hayley moving in on her man?
Hayley laughed to herself at such a ridiculous notion.
“Coffee, Hayley?” she said, squeezing the handle of the pot so hard her knuckles were white.
“Just some orange juice, thanks. I’m waiting for pancakes.”
The waitress—Hayley couldn’t remember her name, Jenny maybe—nodded and marched off to check on her other tables, never taking one eye off Hayley.
Martin was still giving Hayley the cold dead stare.
He had obviously been mulling over her last words.
“Of course I’m interested. He’s my son. But Karen coddled him and indulged him and ignored the signs for years that something wasn’t quite right with him. No matter how hard I tried to get him in to see a psychiatrist, Karen blocked me at every turn. She couldn’t accept the fact that he had psychiatric problems.”
“Bradley thinks you had something to do with Karen’s murder.”
“Of course he does. He’s certifiable.”
“You do have a motive.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The life insurance policy.”
“What life insurance policy?”
“The one where you’re named as beneficiary.”
“We both changed all our policies once we got divorced.”
“She forgot one.”
Martin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“So you had no idea.”
“No. Not a clue.”
Hayley studied him. He looked totally surprised and suddenly over the moon.
“How much am I going to get?”
“Close to a million.”
Martin dropped his coffee cup on the table, drawing some looks from the other diners.
“Are you serious?”
He was almost giddy, but at the same time desperately trying to control himself.
“That’s probably just a drop in the bucket for a man of your means,” Hayley said.
Martin caught himself. “Yes, yes, you’re right. So you see? It really makes no difference and blows my so-called motive to get rid of her right out of the water.”
But Hayley knew from what Randy’d heard from Martin’s blabbermouth waitress girlfriend that he was indeed suffering from poor investments.
But she wasn’t quite ready to play that hand yet.
The waitress brought Hayley’s pancakes and slammed the plate down in front of her to make a point that she was doing so under protest.
She was gone in an instant.
Hayley knew Martin wasn’t that good of an actor. She had seen him play Tevye in a community theater production of
Fiddler on the Roof.
DeNiro and Pacino had nothing to worry about in the twilight years of their careers.
No, it was obvious Martin really had no idea about the policy.
But maybe someone close to him did.
“Where were you the night Karen ate that poisoned clam chowder?” Hayley asked before taking a bite of her blueberry pancakes.
“Well, I certainly wasn’t at the scene of the crime like you were,” Martin said huffily.
Touché.
“Were you home?”
“No. I was out of town. In Portland. For a Toby Keith concert. I already explained all that to the chief.”
“You could have had someone do the deed for you,” Hayley said, pointing at Jenny the waitress, who was nervously glancing over at them as she scribbled down an order at another table.
“Janice was with me at the concert,” Martin said.
Janice. Not Jenny.
Oh well. Close enough. And pretty soon she would be out of the picture and Martin would move on to the next girl. So why get attached to her actual name?
“We were on a date,” Martin said. “She’s a huge country music fan so I surprised her with tickets for her birthday. I can be very romantic.”
That’s when Hayley felt Martin’s pudgy sausage-like fingers grip her knee.
She sat back, appalled, and just looked at him.
There was a slimy, salacious smile on his face, and it made Hayley’s skin crawl. She tried to yank her leg away, but he held it firm.
“You could do worse,” he said. “The way you’re aggressively going after me, accusing me, it’s like foreplay. Honestly, Hayley, it’s making me hot.”
“Snap out of it,” Hayley said, taking another bite of her pancakes before wiping the fork off with her napkin, and then reaching under the table and jamming it down on Martin’s hand.
Martin’s face went beet red and he retracted his hand, howling in pain.
More looks from the other diners.
“You’re disgusting,” Hayley said.
“And you’re fishing,” Martin said. “I didn’t kill Karen and you know it.”
In a way, Hayley wished he had. Then he would be locked up and she would never have to be blinded by another one of his fluorescent shirts again.
But if Janice was with him on the night of the murder, there wasn’t anybody else she could think of who might commit murder for Martin. And a paid professional just seemed so unlikely, even if Martin could afford it.
Which if Janice was right, he couldn’t.
Martin rubbed his hand, his eyes watery with tears from the pain.
Janice noticed and rushed over to see what was the matter.
“What happened?” Janice squealed.
Martin gave Hayley a pleading look.
He almost lost a hand. He didn’t want to lose his girlfriend, too.
“He tried to eat my pancakes. And everybody knows I don’t like sharing,” Hayley said, waving her fork menacingly.
She turned to Janice. “Could you wrap the rest up for me to go? I’ve lost my appetite.”
Janice nodded, and scurried off to find a plastic container as Hayley smiled at Martin, confident he wouldn’t try to make another pass at her anytime soon.
Chapter 29
 
Once Hayley finally arrived at the office—only ten minutes late, to her surprise—it was business as usual with Hayley fielding calls and stealing a few moments throughout the day to work on her next column.
She worked through lunch, attended an editorial meeting mid-afternoon, and without even a coffee break, found herself lagging behind, trying to catch up with all the classified ads, subscriptions, obituaries, and press releases piled high in her inbox.
By the time she had a moment to catch her breath and look at the clock, it was going on six.
Hayley hadn’t thought about the Karen Applebaum murder all day, and it made her nervous. The longer it took her to figure out what really happened, the more time the police had to build their case against her.
Not that Sergio reveled in her going down for the murder, but there were literally no other suspects.
And now that Hayley had ruled out Karen’s ex-husband and only child, she was left with pretty much nothing.
She needed to clear her head and think about everyone remotely connected to Karen, anyone besides her who might have had a grudge. She needed to look at the other columnists and reporters at the
Herald.
Maybe Karen had crossed one of them.
And who was this mysterious boyfriend and why had she kept his name such a big secret?
Hayley drove home and prepared a lasagna. She popped it in the oven for the kids, who weren’t even home yet. She then tossed a salad and slid the bowl in the fridge. She knew she had a good hour before the lasagna would be baked and the kids would be pounding their forks on the table, demanding to be fed, so she changed into some gray sweats and Nike running shoes, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, clipped the leash on Leroy’s collar, and flew out the door for a quick run.
Leroy padded along the pavement, excited to be out in the fresh evening air. The sun had already set and darkness was falling over the island as Hayley picked up her pace, veering off the main road, through a cemetery, and into the heart of one of Acadia National Park’s scenic trails, this one passing through the Kebo Valley Golf Course, and through the woods toward the park road that would eventually lead to the rocky cliffs of the Maine coast and scenic Sand Beach.
Hayley never bothered with an iPod and ear buds because she didn’t want music obstructing the sounds of nature. The chirping birds, the cool night breeze, the crashing waves against the rocks.
When Hayley reached the ocean, with Sand Beach just ahead, she turned around to double back. She had already gone two miles. She stopped for a quick break, panting, wiping the sweat off her forehead and checking on Leroy. He had plopped down on his hind legs, his little tongue snaking out over his overbite, panting almost as loudly as Hayley.
“How’re you holding up, Leroy? You ready to head home?”
Leroy was distracted by something.
When Hayley turned around to see what he was staring at, she saw a pair of headlights approaching. She instinctively scooped up Leroy and stepped to the side of the road, concerned the driver might not see her.
The car slowed down and stopped a few hundred feet away, the engine running, the driver’s face shadowed and unrecognizable. It was too dark to even make out what kind of car he was driving.
Hayley waved at the driver and smiled. The car just sat there in the middle of the road, not moving.
What was he doing? He had to see her. Why didn’t he just drive forward and pass her by.
The headlights shut off.
Hayley was enveloped in darkness.
Hayley’s heart raced now. This was getting weird. She could hear the car idling. Why did the driver shut the lights off?
Hayley clasped Leroy to her chest and jogged down a dark dirt trail leading away from the car and back toward home.
She heard the car turning around. It began following her along a paved road. She knew the road would eventually wind around. If the driver drove fast enough, he could cut her off as she came out of the trail back onto the main road. She could hide in the woods and wait for the car to give up and drive away. But she wasn’t quite sure what was going on yet and didn’t want to panic.
The car rolled slowly along and was now ahead of her. The driver clearly knew the dirt path Hayley had taken would end soon and lead her right out in front of him.
Hayley slowed her pace, deciding what she should do. She was ready to bolt into a thicket of trees and muzzle Leroy until the driver was gone, when suddenly the car’s lights came back on and the man drove away.
She kept an eye on the red taillights until they turned a corner and disappeared.
Hayley felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
She’d probably overreacted. It could have just been a teenager out joyriding alone with only his permit and no adult supervision, afraid someone might see him and report him. Or it could have been a lost tourist.
Nothing to worry about. Leroy was getting heavy in Hayley’s arms so she finally set him down.
“You can make it the rest of the way on foot, lazy butt,” Hayley said, patting Leroy’s head. And then she took off again, pulling Leroy’s leash as he scampered to keep pace, now satisfied she wasn’t in any kind of danger.
As she crested a hill, she stopped suddenly. Just ahead, she spotted the red taillights of the car. It had been pulled over to the side of the road. The driver’s side door was open, and the engine was still on.
The surprise of seeing the car caused her to loosen her grip on Leroy’s leash, and before she had a chance to react, Leroy sprung forward, dragging his leash as he ran toward the car.
“Leroy, come back here!” Hayley cried, chasing after him.
When she caught up to her dog, Leroy was sniffing the ground around the car, obviously picking up some kind of scent.
The car was empty.
Who would leave his car on the side of the road with the keys in the ignition and the engine still running?
Hayley looked around.
Something just didn’t feel right. Her gut told her to get the hell out of there. She bent down to pick up Leroy’s leash when she heard a sharp cracking sound and felt a whoosh just above her head.
Hayley stood upright.
What was that?
Leroy started barking wildly.
She leaned down and pointed her finger admonishingly. “Stop it, Leroy! Hush!”
Another crack.
Another whoosh.
This time past her right ear.
Dear God.
There was no mistaking what was happening.
Someone was shooting at her.
Hayley dropped to her knees, and yanked at the leash. The force choked Leroy’s barking off for a few seconds as he flew toward her. She grabbed him in her arms and held him tight to her bosom, burying his face in her sweatshirt to muffle his incessant yapping.
Another shot rang out.
And the glass of the rearview mirror shattered to pieces, just inches from her head.
She was a sitting duck.
He would certainly get her with the next one.
Springing to her feet, Hayley plunged into the woods, carrying Leroy, running as fast and hard as she could, through tree branches that snapped back and lashed at her face. She kicked up some leaves, cranking her head around a few times to see if the shooter was pursuing her.
She couldn’t make out much in the darkness. And she didn’t see the thick fallen birch tree branch in her path.
Her Nike running shoe got caught underneath it.
Hayley lost her balance and went sprawling facedown in the muddy dirt. She lost her grip on Leroy and he sailed a few feet ahead of her, landing on his butt with a shocked yelp.
She lay on the ground, as still as can be.
The only sound was Leroy struggling to his feet. Did he see the shooter approaching? Her biggest fear was Leroy barking again and drawing the shooter directly to their location. But the little dog was still in a bit of shock, the air knocked out of him. He just sat there, not sure what had just happened.
Hayley didn’t make a move.
Leaves blew past her. The trees swayed back and forth in the night breeze.
She heard a distinct clicking sound. Like someone cocking a gun.
And then footsteps. Not close. But close enough.
If she stood up, she surely would be spotted.
Leroy began to growl softly, like he was warning her about approaching danger. She put a finger to her lips to shush him before realizing how foolish it was to expect a dog, especially her tiny slow-witted monster, to pick up on her hand signals.
She reached out and slowly, methodically began pulling Leroy’s leash toward her. He kept up his low gutteral growling, and resisted being gently forced back in Hayley’s direction. But she knew if she didn’t shut him up, they would be easy targets for the shooter.
Leroy was now only a few inches from her.
She almost had him in her grasp. She couldn’t tell where the shooter was, or if the crinkling leaves and twigs were from his approaching footsteps or the gusts of wind.
Then she heard a car door shut in the distance.
She raised her head just enough to see the car pulling away through a thicket of trees, rounding a bend and leaving for good.
By now, Leroy was too spent to even keep up his growling. He looked exhausted, and welcomed the warm inviting arms of his master.
Hayley crawled to her feet, stroking his curly white hair, whispering in his ear that everything was fine, as she slowly hiked home, not quite ready to accept the fact that she was now in the crosshairs of a real killer.

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