Soufflé Murder: A Seagrass Sweets Cozy Mystery Read online

  “Dizzy, you keep Dash in the yard,” Ashley called. “Don't let him leave here. You know he likes to wander. After all, that is how the two of you met.” Dizzy barked back as if she understood what Ashley said and was agreeing with her.

  Inside, Ashley poured herself a glass of mint iced tea and got comfortable on the couch, feet tucked up under her. She pulled her laptop from the coffee table and, one more time, started flipping through the photos she'd gotten from Andy from the rehearsal dinner video recording, which she'd scanned to make it easier to check them. She didn't really expect to find anything useful, but she also didn't have any other ideas for what to do next.

  “Wait,” Ashley murmured. “What's that?” She enlarged the photo to check the details. Looking closer, she identified a pile of branches that were barely showing in the frame, which meant that they were on the very edge of the line between the Estes Mount property and the Roth backyard.

  “It looks like some of the trimmings may have fallen onto Chantelle's yard,” Ashley spoke aloud. “What a mess someone left for Chantelle to have to clean up. Between that and the noise she claims the guests create—if they really do—it's a little more understandable that she's unhappy with Estes Mount being there even if her reaction is pretty much over the top.”

  Pulling out her phone, Ashley sent a quick text to Robin, asking if her friend would mind if Ryan shared his working copy of the dinner video with her. She was hoping that there would be something in it that would provide another clue or two. Robin answered quickly, asking for Ryan's number so she could let him know that it would be okay.

  Letting her head fall back on the couch cushion, Ashley wondered if Chantelle should be on her suspect list. Her motive seemed a little thin for murder, would someone kill over a little garden debris and a couple of loud parties? Still, Ashley knew that people killed with less provocation, especially in the heat of the moment. Chantelle certainly was close enough to be able to slip onto the venue's grounds and push Howard Andrews into the fish pond, and Ashley had no trouble believing that he might have said something offensive to the angry woman. It wouldn't even have had to be all that bad since she seemed to always be spoiling for a good fight and to have a hair trigger on her temper. Before Ashley could come to any conclusions, the two dogs began barking loudly in the backyard, and she heard a car door slam. Leaning a little to the right and peeking through the mullioned bay window at the front of the cottage, she could see the front corner of Ryan's car in the driveway.

  “Hello,” Ryan called as he came in the front door. “It's just me. Hey, Ash, I thought you were going to be more careful and keep the doors locked.” After giving her a quick kiss, Ryan plopped down next to Ashley on the couch.

  “Hmmm ... I guess I was distracted,” Ashley answered. “Dash and Dizzy were a little crazy, as usual, and I was so busy laughing at their antics, I guess I forgot about the door.”

  “Well, I suppose the noise they're making would scare away any bad guys, and maybe even a few of the good ones,” Ryan laughed. “They are definitely wound up.”

  “They've been chasing each other all over the yard since we got here about an hour ago,” Ashley replied. “They should be ready to crash before much longer.”

  “What a day!” Ryan sighed. “I had everything perfectly scheduled for the week so that I could hit all the deadlines without drowning. Then three different clients called to either move those deadlines up, to like yesterday, or to double the work they needed me to do, all without extending those deadlines. I spent all afternoon on one call after another, putting out fires and negotiating reasonable timelines. I'll get it all done, but some of them are going to pay a premium price for their own disorganization. The money will be nice, but I'm beat!”

  Ashley went into the kitchen to pour Ryan a glass of tea. He joined her at the breakfast bar while she pulled out ingredients for a quick dinner. She set him to work chopping radishes, carrots, bell pepper, celery, and jalapenos for a salad. When he finished, she planned to toss them with a boiled dressing of white, apple cider, and red wine vinegars mixed with a little sugar, chopped cilantro, and salt. She knew that the pickled veggies would be delicious without the usual salad greens, and they would be even better after marinating in the dressing over the next few days.

  “You're getting to be my guinea pig again tonight,” Ashley told Ryan. “I want to try out a new pumpkin-Parmesan chicken dish for Seagrass Sweets. We're getting a lot more catering jobs for full meals, instead of just desserts, so I need some new recipes. It's funny—when we started the business, Patty handled the savory appetizers, and I focused on the sweets, but we seem to be drifting into each other's area more and more. She's come up with some fantastic desserts lately, and I'm really enjoying working on savories and entrees.”

  “Pumpkin, Parmesan, and chicken sounds like an unusual combination,” Ryan commented, “but I'm game to give it a try. You haven't served me anything yet that wasn't delicious. Besides, as hungry as I am tonight, you could put spaghetti sauce on an old shoe, and I'd eat it!”

  While she mixed Parmesan cheese, pumpkin puree, mayonnaise, garlic and onion powders, parsley, and salt and pepper to pour over chicken breasts, Ashley updated Ryan on the case.

  “I don't really have anyone left on my suspect list. Cash has an alibi, and Royce Starling's grief seems genuine, plus he really doesn't have much of a motive,” Ashley said. “Although, just before you arrived, I was wondering if the neighbor, Chantelle Roth, might be a possibility. She is one intensely angry woman, and she blames Estes Mount for all her business problems.” She told him about that afternoon's encounter, and he shook his head at Chantelle's over-the-top behavior.

  “How would that translate to killing Howard Andrews, though?” Ryan asked. “He wasn't the Estes Mount owner or anything, was he? I thought he was just a guest. Doesn't seem like killing him would solve any problems with Estes Mount. If Graham was the victim, it would make more sense.”

  “No, you're right,” Ashley said as she slid the baking dish into the oven. “He had no connection to the place other than being a guest at the rehearsal dinner. That's why I haven't put Chantelle or her son on the list—yet. They did have a history, though. In fact, Howard—well, the company—had even taken her to court, and she's retaliated by blasting the company's social media pages with foul comments.”

  “Well, in all the mystery novels and television shows, they always say to figure out who benefits,” Ryan suggested. “Is there anyone who gained anything from Howard's death?”

  “If there is,” Ashley shrugged, “I haven't found out yet. I feel like it had to have been someone who wasn't at the dinner. From what Patty and I observed and what we've heard so far, Cash and the two kids who found the body were the only ones missing at the critical time, and the sheriff has apparently checked Cash's alibi and found it strong enough. But why would someone who wasn't a guest at the party have killed him there? Wouldn't it make better sense to catch him alone at home or at his office where there wouldn't have been so many potential witnesses?”

  “That's a good point,” Ryan agreed. “I wonder if it could have been a chance encounter—you know, a random person passing by? I mean, you'd have to be crazy to kill a stranger just because they were there, but I'm not sure someone who's totally sane would murder anyone anyway. Robin texted me just as I was leaving the house and said that you wanted to look at the rehearsal dinner video so I brought the file with me. We can look at it together after supper.”

  Ashley looked thoughtful, nodded, and pulled a plate of cheese cubes, olives, and pickles from the refrigerator, motioning for Ryan to follow her. “The chicken needs about 30 minutes to cook before I top it with a little more Parm and bake it another 15 minutes. Let's sit in the living room where we can be more comfortable. And let's talk about something else for a while, okay?”

  While they waited, the couple talked about their respective businesses and their upcoming events and deadlines. Ryan reminded her that he would be availa
ble to help with both the funeral meal and the wedding reception, and Ashley offered to have Dash visit Dizzy on a couple of Ryan's busier days. When the time came to top the chicken, they returned to the kitchen where Ryan set places for them on the breakfast bar, and Ashley fluffed the rice she'd started cooking earlier.

  “Wow,” Ryan said as they finished their meal. “When you said you were combining pumpkin and Parmesan cheese, I wasn't too sure about this recipe. Then when you added mayo to the mixture, I was afraid I was going to have to smile and pretend to like the dish. But this is amazing! You should definitely add this to your catering menu, and we should have it again at home soon and often!”

  Ashley laughed. “That's a pretty solid endorsement. I'll let Patty know that it worked. She'll be glad to hear it because she had the same reaction to the description that you did when I told her about the inspiration for it. Let's just leave the dishes for right now and take a look at the video.”

  Going back into the living room, they got comfortable on the couch and Ryan booted up his laptop. As they waited for the file to load, Ryan mentioned that he had worked with Chantelle before.

  “I didn't recognize the name when you mentioned it earlier,” Ryan told Ashley, “but it did sound familiar. I looked through my records, and I found out that she called me a couple of times to work on some problems with her computer.”

  “Really?” Ashley said. “I'm almost surprised that she even has a computer. For some reason, I would have thought she was something of a Luddite although I can't really say why. I mean, a massage therapist is a fairly modernish career, but I could easily see her doing all her scheduling, billing, and accounting on paper.”

  “Well,” Ryan laughed. “Chantelle does have a computer, and it's fairly updated, but she doesn't know much about using it. She called one day to say that her new laptop wouldn't come on so she thought she needed to change the batteries, but she didn't know if she needed AA, C, or 9-volts, and she couldn't find the place to put them. I had to actually go to her house to show her how to plug the cord in. She had unpacked the cord, and then she couldn't figure out what to do with it!”

  “Seriously?” Ashley laughed. “Is she the one with the computer with the flu?”

  “No,” Ryan shook his head. “In fact, when she's called about her desktop, it's been legit problems—hardware issues or software corruption. But she is one strange lady. I saw her yelling out the window at someone next door for being on her property even though he was on the sidewalk! And she asked me about a closed-circuit surveillance system because she was sure that people—several people—were coming around her house every night. She was convinced that she was going to be kidnapped and forced into some kind of sex trade because, and I quote, 'My assets are irresistible to older men!’”

  “Yikes!” Ashley said as the video started. “Again, there's a lot of crazy living in that house.”

  They watched the video a couple of times, but neither one of them saw anything new to indicate what had happened that night.

  “Howard seemed drunk just before he went outside,” Ryan said, “but not so much that you'd expect him to pass out. I might have thought that someone slipped him a mickey, but there didn't seem to be any opportunity for it that I could see. I wonder if the son—Rocky, is it—might have been around Estes Mount at any time, without anyone realizing it. Could he have slipped into the venue without anyone seeing him?”

  “And wouldn't the remnants of whatever drug or drugs they used have shown up in the toxicology results?” Ashley commented. “I don't think either of the Roths could be inside without someone on the staff knowing it as obnoxious as Chantelle has been. I'm sure they watch out for her if only to be able to suddenly get busy somewhere else if they see her coming! I wonder if there's any kind of medical condition that could have made him act like that? Oh, well, we might not have learned anything to help with the case tonight, but, at least, I have a new recipe to add to our menus.”

  “I love watching you cook and helping you prepare meals, and I love sharing evenings with you,” Ryan continued. “It would be great if we could do that every evening—you know, like we would if we were living together.”

  “Ryan, STOP!” Ashley held up her hand, palm facing Ryan. “I've told you that I'm not ready to make that decision, and your continued pestering isn't making it any easier! In fact, if you can't understand that I need time, and if you can't respect my request better than this ... well, maybe that's a sign that we aren't ready for that much togetherness! It just makes me feel even more like moving in together might not be a great idea after all.”

  Ryan looked shocked at her response, but he didn't say anything. He picked up his plate and silverware, walked to the sink and rinsed them before putting them into the dishwasher. Silently, he began clearing the remains of their meal and finding containers for the leftovers.

  Finally, Ashley sighed over his sullen attitude. “Look, I think we are both tired. We've both been under a lot of pressure from our businesses and from this murder case. I know I could use an early night. We can have dinner together tomorrow and talk some more. I'm sure we'll both be in better moods by then.”

  Ryan looked over at her and nodded. For a minute, Ashley thought he might walk out without speaking, but he finally walked over and wrapped her in a hug.

  “Sure, hon,” Ryan said softly. “That sounds like a good idea. I'll meet you here about 6:00, if that's okay?”

  Ashley agreed, and they went to the French doors leading out to the backyard to call the dogs in for the evening. After getting vigorous goodbye kisses from Dash and Dizzy, Ashley walked Ryan and his puppy to the door and sent them on their way.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next morning, Ashley was distracted as she drove to Seagrass Sweets. Between the murder case and Ryan's insistence on them moving in together, she found her mind jumping all over the place. She climbed out of her car, clipped the leash to Dizzy's collar, and went through the back door without noticing that it was unlocked.

  “Oh!” Ashley exclaimed when she realized she and her dog weren't alone in the storeroom. Patty and Smoke Daddy were clearly having a personal, cozy moment behind the shelves. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ashley said, cheeks burning. “I thought we were the first ones here. I didn't realize anyone was here. I ... um ... we . . .”

  “It's okay, cheri,” Patty assured her, giggling, as Smoke Daddy laughed boisterously. Ashley smiled at them, but she realized that what she was feeling wasn't only embarrassment. It was jealousy that her two friends had a level of togetherness that she and Ryan hadn't been sharing lately. That embarrassed her even more although she knew Patty and Smoke Daddy didn't know about that moment of envy that flashed through her.

  “I'll catch up with you later,” Ashley told them, feeling the heat of her blush spreading. “I think I'm going to run out to Chantelle Roth's place to see if I can book a massage session, maybe she can work out some of the tension in my muscles. I'll be back in an hour or so.” She desperately wanted some time to herself, but she didn't want to think about her romantic relationship or her envy of Patty and Smoke Daddy's relationship. A massage should help clear her mind—at least she hoped it would. With Chantelle's attitude, who knew how relaxing it would be? It might give her a chance to do a little snooping while she was there, though, so it was worth a shot.

  Back in the car, Ashley confided in her dog. “Okay, Diz, that was totally embarrassing. How am I going to face those two again after catching them at that? And then to be jealous because they're so happy? What kind of friend—what kind of person—does that make me? Oh, well, at least doing some sleuthing will take my mind off my own problems. And, you know, a massage is never wasted even if I don't learn anything new about the case.”

  “You're in luck,” Chantelle told her a few minutes later when Ashley asked about booking a session. “I have an opening in about 30 minutes if you'd like to wait.”

  Ashley agreed, thinking that if she hadn't witnessed it herself, she'
d have no idea that the woman could be so angry and hostile, based on the sweet attitude Chantelle showed her. Chantelle went down the hallway to one of the bedrooms that she was apparently using as a treatment room. As soon as the massage therapist was out of sight, Ashley jumped at the chance to snoop. She looked around the room, but there were no obvious clues to be seen. She stepped quietly to the desk that also served as a receptionist station.

  After a peek down the hall to make sure the doors were all closed, Ashley flipped through the desk calendar, looking for a connection between Chantelle and Howard Andrews, but there were no incriminating notes there or in any of the papers in the drawers she riffled through. She even scanned through the emails and files on the desktop computer, but the only thing she discovered was that Chantelle wasn't very careful about her computer security.

  A quick glance through the papers in a basket on the desk showed that Chantelle was way behind on some of her bills, including her credit cards and utility payments. Ashley found one from Andrews Construction. She whistled softly when she saw the total.

  Chantelle still owes them nearly $7,000? And it looks like she hasn't made any payments to them in at least 18 months! This letter says that if she doesn't make a payment of at least $500 by the end of the month, the company is going to take her back to court. That warning letter was attached to another letter on a law firm letterhead—she had apparently consulted them for advice—that said she could lose her house and business if that happened! No wonder she's making such ugly remarks on Facebook! She must have hated Howard Andrews passionately.

  Ashley heard Chantelle and her client coming down the hallway, and, after replacing the papers she was reviewing, she quickly took a seat in the overstuffed chair near the window. After saying goodbye to the other client, Chantelle beckoned for Ashley to follow her.