Raisin the Dead (16 page)

“Yes, I am. I'm not going to listen to you talk trash about him. Even if I weren't in love with him, he's the best detective you'll ever meet. He's good, honorable, and smart. For all I know, you did kill your great-uncle. For all I know, you don't have a key and you did break in. For all I know, you intend to kill me now.”

“All right, already.” She massaged her temples. “You're giving me a headache. Jesus, calm down.”

I went over to the window and looked out at the indigo water, wishing I were lounging on a boat deck instead of standing here. I turned around. “Apology accepted.” Not that she'd exactly apologized, but for her I figured it was as close as I was getting. I wasn't a grudge holder anyway. “Why do you want my help?”

“The police don't seem to be getting anywhere. You have a record of accomplishment, so to speak. Corsino is in the hospital. Is anyone bothering to do anything? A man was murdered! Your own mother is a suspect. I would think you would want to at least clear her name.”

“She's not a suspect. She's a person of interest, like you.”

“Whatever. Where do we start?”

I hadn't agreed to help, but of course I would. I did want my mother cleared, and if it cleared Serafina, she could get her wish and go back to the city. Maybe she'd take Felicia back with her. “My book club is meeting next week. We'll start then.”

“You want me to join a book club? How is that going to help solve my great-uncle's murder, or help me? Did you understand what I said? Is everyone in this town an idiot?”

My temper flared. “Hardly. We don't have any more idiots than the usual town, except when we get visitors.”

That flew right over her head. I continued. “Either you listen without making snarky comments, or we forget the whole thing and you drive me back to Bread and Batter, right now. I don't need this. I'm worried about Sean. I really don't care if you are the killer and spend the rest of your life in jail.”

She inhaled then exhaled for what seemed like a minute. “Fine. Whatever. God, I miss New York and Jesse.”

“Who's Jesse?”

She sank down on the king-sized bed and glared at me. “Not important. Why are we joining a book club? I run a multi-million dollar perfume company. You think I have time to read? When I'm not working I'm doing charity events, going to the ballet, attending parties, traveling, and adding to my extensive art collection.”

“Is that all?” I didn't give her a chance to answer. “Anyway, before you arrived at Bread and Batter today, I was thinking of assigning my book club members different suspects in your great-uncle's murder to research.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” she spat out.

It was my turn to glare.

“All right, I'm listening.”

“With Detective Corsino in the hospital, Sergeant Jacoby over in Rigby will be helping. However, I can't sit and do nothing. If you come with me to my book club, we're called the Destiny Divas by the way, then we can ask you questions in person and no one will have to find you to do that.”

“You're serious?”

“I have to start somewhere. For the record, I believe you probably didn't do it, and I know my mother didn't do it, but someone did. I don't exactly like the thought of another killer running around our town. I'm sure it happens all the time in New York City, but not here.”

She got off the bed. “New York is a safe city. Crime is actually at an all-time low and we've got a zillion more people than Destiny.”

“Good to know.”

“When is this book club meeting thing?” she asked.

“Next Friday. It's at Olivia's house. I'll give you the address. Do you have a piece of paper?”

She walked over to the desk and handed me a small pad and pen. I wrote down Olivia's address, along with my name and phone number. “Dinner will be served as well. Six o'clock.”

“Fine. I hope I'm not sorry for agreeing to this. I really only wanted you to do a little investigating. Please tell Olivia I don't eat shellfish or Brussels sprouts. Do you have a plan for catching the killer?”

“We can discuss it at the book club.”

“That means no, doesn't it?”

“Right now, I want to review the suspects, and gather as much information on all of them as possible.”

“What's that supposed to do?”

“I'll discuss it with Sergeant Jacoby.”

“What if they aren't on board with your idea, your little book club?”

I shrugged. “I'm sure it won't be a problem. We're still going to pick out a book to read for the month, regardless. I thought I'd enlist their help with the suspects. Your being there will be helpful, as I mentioned. The sooner the murderer is caught, the better, obviously.”

She looked horrified. “I don't have to read the book, do I?”

Note that this thought was more alarming to her than a killer running loose was. “You act as if reading is a communicable disease. It's actually relaxing. You should try it. The only reason I want you to appear at the meeting is so we don't have to waste time researching you since you'll be there in person.

“Maybe we can talk a little now, since I'm here. No one in town knew that Philip Baldelli was your great-uncle. He apparently never discussed it. Then you showed up. Why?”

“I guess I can trust you. Let's sit.”

“You can trust me.” I followed her back into the seating area. She took the couch. I took the chair facing her.

“As you know, I am the head of Serafina Perfumes. My company is only three years old and it's doing fantastically well. My great-great-grandfather started Alessi Perfumes in 1921. He was from here. Destiny, I mean. He chose to move to Italy at a young age and make perfume there. He thought it would be more romantic, more marketable, and pleasing to women if perfume came from Italy. Who ever heard of Destiny, right?”

I nodded and let her keep talking. Despite my initial, and ongoing, impression of Serafina, her story was fascinating.

“The original perfume was called
Il Mio Destino
. That's ‘my destiny,' in Italian. It launched Alessi. My great-uncle Philip was the only one with the original formula. I came to get it from him, with my mother's blessing.”

“I don't get it. Why does your mother want you to have it?”

“My parents are divorced. My father never forgave me for going out on my own. We don't speak at all. We probably never will.” She held up her hand, the palm facing me. “Please don't sympathize or tell me you're sorry. I'm fine with it.”

I took her admonition to heart and didn't comment about their estrangement. I tried digesting what she said about the formula for Il Mio Destino. I loved the name. “Hasn't Philip Baldelli lived here his entire life? What did he have to do with Alessi?”

“Yes,” replied Serafina. “As far as I know. I've only seen him a couple of times in my life. The formula for Il Mio Destino was given to Philip for safekeeping, in case they wanted to bring it back. It last appeared for sale in 1947. They didn't want it falling into the wrong hands. Alessi compensated my great-uncle nicely for keeping the formula secret.

“My parents agreed he was a neutral party because of his non-involvement in the business. My parents may be divorced, but they still own Alessi together. It's my mother's family who started it, but my father played a huge part in growing it. He took it global. My mother wants me to have the formula before my father takes it. What's the saying? ‘Blood is thicker than water,' right?”

“So that's really why you're here, the formula? Not to take a break from a relationship or forget about business for a while?”

“I never forget about business. Serafina Perfumes is my life.”

“What about this Jesse guy? Is that the relationship you're taking a break from?”

She glowered at me. “That is none of your business.”

I'd return to that subject later. “Why did you lie to Bobby Crandall when he interviewed you for
The
Destiny Trumpet
? You told him you were here to take a break from a relationship and to forget about business.”

“Don't be dense. I didn't want the real reason I was here to be revealed. What if my father got wind of it? My great-uncle was the only one who knew. Now you do, too.”

“I promise I'm not going to take it to the newspaper.”

She half-shrugged. “I don't care now. I have the formula. If my father finds out I have it, there's nothing he can do about it. He's not going to kill me over it.”

“Why do you want the formula now? As opposed to three years ago? Two years ago?”

“I didn't know about it three years ago. My mother told me recently that Philip had the formula. She wants me to market it again in time for Il Mio Destino's one-hundredth anniversary in six years. Under the Serafina brand. So far, my father hasn't had the same idea, but she's afraid he eventually will. He's no idiot.”

“Isn't your mother afraid of your father's reaction if he discovers she double-crossed him and gave the formula to you?”

Smirking, she shrugged again. “My mother is not afraid of anyone, especially not my father. It's not double-crossing him, really. Technically, the formula belongs to her. And now, me.”

“Did you tell the police that's why you're in town, for the formula?”

“No. I didn't have to. Detective Corsino knew, which scared me. He didn't tell me how he knew.”

“So, he thinks you may have killed Baldelli for it.”

“Exactly. There's no proof my great-uncle willingly gave it to me, which he did, after he spoke to my mother. I ended up telling the detective more than I wanted because I assumed he already knew the whole story. He didn't. He only knew about some generic formula.” She got up and looked down on me. “Now, here I am stuck in your town.”

I cleared my throat. “The police may think you killed him because of a member of my book club.” If she came to our book club meeting, she would find out anyway. There were no secrets there.

“What are you talking about?”

“You had your hair cut at Mary Sue's House of Beauty.”

She shuddered. “Don't remind me. She didn't do a bad job, considering the antiquated shop, I'll admit that, but hasn't anyone notified the woman that beehive hairdos went out about a half century ago?”

“She's a wonderful woman. There's no need to be snotty about her. Your hair doesn't look like it suffered any.”

She touched her ponytail. “Matter of opinion. She's not Jon's on Fifth Avenue, that's for sure. I think some of her hair products expired ten years ago.”

If fire began shooting out of my head, I don't think I'd be at all surprised. “You know, I'm not sure I want to help you after all. You don't have to like being here, but you don't have to be rude and disrespectful.”

She clicked her tongue again in annoyance. “Sorry. What does she have to do with my being held prisoner?”

I didn't acknowledge her apology; she sounded as sincere as a grapefruit. “She mentioned at our book club that you were on your cell phone at her salon. She heard you say ‘Don't worry. I'll get the formula before anyone at Alessi does. I don't care who I have to kill.'”

She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. “She went to the police? Why would she do that? I can't believe this. I wish I'd never gone in Mary Sue's House of Beauty. What was she thinking?”

“Um . . . Maybe she was thinking someone murdered your uncle so your saying that might be important? Why wouldn't she go to the police? You have to admit that sounded a little incriminating.”

She stared at me without replying.

“I should get back to the bakery now,” I finally said.

“So you'll help?” she asked.

“I'll do what I can.”

“I hope I don't regret this,” she responded.

“My thoughts, exactly.”

***

“Next Friday,” Serafina stated as she pulled up in front of Bread and Batter.

“Yes. Six o'clock. If you have any questions beforehand, give me a call or text me.”

She nodded as I got out.

“Where did you go?” asked Olivia when I came behind the counter. “I can't believe you drove away with Serafina Alessi.”

Kendra was getting cupcakes for a woman who was obviously listening to our conversation with great interest, so I ushered Olivia into the back. “I'll tell you about it in a second.” I reached under the desk to grab my purse and look for my phone. “Did my phone ring?”

“Not that I heard.”

I looked at the screen. No missed calls. No missed messages. I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought of Sean again. I should be with him, but I couldn't see him yet, so what good would that do? I consoled myself with the fact that trying to find a killer was more helpful than sitting in a hospital waiting room, crying. I looked at Olivia. “Serafina wants me to help find Philip's killer.”

“What? Why? That's a really strange thing to ask. She doesn't even know you.”

“Because she saw
The Destiny Trumpet
articles at his house about my helping solve Calista's murder. I guess she thinks I have magical murder-solving powers. I invited her to our book club. I do have an idea, actually, that I thought of before she came in.”

“I can't wait to hear it. Tell me.” Olivia sat in the only visitor's chair we had.

“Since Sean is in the hospital, and Sergeant Jacoby probably won't be able to devote all his time to Philip's murder, I thought I'd help by enlisting the Destiny Divas.”

“How?”

“I want each of us to research a suspect. That could move the investigation along, right?”

She frowned. “There are fifteen of us. Are there fifteen suspects?”

“That's if all of us show up, which hardly ever happens. We'll have to share suspects. I have a list in my head.”

“I didn't know you had a list; who's on it?”

I sat behind the desk, pulled out a notebook, and grabbed a pen. I read as I wrote. “My mother, Serafina, someone from the Oleandra County Preservation Society, someone from the Destiny Trust for Historic Preservation, Daniel Bixby, Candy Blick, and Jill McGinley.”

“That's an impressive list. Why did you put your mother on it?”