Killer Cheesecake Tart Page 3

  Before Bert could say one more thing, Vera had marched up the stone steps onto the veranda and disappeared inside.

  Chapter 4

  * * *

  “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe that just happened,” Shiv admitted, looking toward the towering castle.

  “I wish it hadn’t. Not only is a member of my very own church congregation deeply hurt, but now I’m afraid both Persephone and Sarah may be wrongly fired.”

  Shiv shrugged, adjusting the plates of tarts in front of her for more of the guests who were coming up to get a serving. “Well, someone is to blame, aren’t they? I mean Persephone and Claudia weren’t invited by accident. Somehow their names ended up on the list.”

  “You know, it’s possible that Vera had the names on that list herself—perhaps by accident—when she gave it to her secretary.”

  Shiv hummed quietly in thought. “That’s probably true but try telling that to Vera herself. You’ve seen the kind of woman she is, those looks she gives...”

  “It’s true. She gives me the willies when she gets mad.”

  “It’s like she’s a vampire in disguise, just waiting to reveal her true self and strike.”

  Bert folded her arms and sighed, breathing out through her nose. “When you have as much social power and money as she does, I wonder how it affects you?”

  “You know, I’ve always been dirt poor my whole life. Even with all those experiences, I don’t think I’d ever want to have a ton of money. I’m just happy and grateful for the simple comforts of life—a job, food, a roof over my head, and friends.”

  “Well, you’ve learned to be humble. I’m sure Vera’s never had the opportunity,” Bert commented, looking back toward the windows of the house again.

  Shiv raised an eyebrow, recognizing the look on her employer’s face. “You’re going to go in there aren’t you?”

  “Huh? Of course, not,” Bert tried to lie.

  “Are you going to sneak into Vera’s office for a look at the original list?”

  “Absolutely not. That’s breaking and entering.”

  “Okay. Then, you want to go in and argue in favor of the secretary. That way, we can get fired and never receive another big gig from Vera again.”

  Bert put up her hands. “No, no, no, Shiv. I just want to chat with Vera and see if I can’t get her to see reason. Even if it was someone’s fault, she should give them another chance.”

  “How do you know they deserve another chance?” Shiv suggested.

  “Look, if Carla were here, she’d be on the bandwagon with me for this idea,” Bert retorted, not liking being told when she might be in the wrong. Carla, her best friend, was usually the one to help in this situation. This weekend, however, Carla was out of town to see family.

  Shiv, on the other hand, was down to earth and logical in her thought process. She was a lot like Bert in that way. Bert, however, had learned to follow her gut feeling—to take risks—throughout her life.

  For some reason, she couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty that one of those young girls may get fired. Both the secretary and the graphic designer seemed like nice women. At the very least, Bert felt like she could talk Vera into being more lenient.

  “I’m not Carla, Bert. Sorry about that, but I’m just telling it as I see it.”

  “Clearly, not,” she joked in return. “In any case, I’ve been known to convince the stubbornest of people to change their minds. All it takes is a little tact and the right attitude,” Bert boasted. Not only did she often bake pies for church functions throughout the years, but she’d acted a mediator during many a disagreement between congregation members and families.

  Some people considered her a busybody because of it, but Pastor Chimney had been grateful for her help in most instances.

  “Look, Bert. I know that Vera has sort of been buddy-buddy with you today, but that doesn’t mean she considers you a friend or an equal,” Shiv pointed out. “Trust me, coming from a nothing background, I’ve met some people who are willing to talk your ear off because they want someone to listen or sympathize. Those people would never want to be given actual advice in return. I’m betting that Vera, despite being surrounded by people, is just as lonely as Claudia. You’re a stranger who makes comforting food and doesn’t judge people immediately.”

  Bert twisted her lips to one side. “You know? You’re way too smart for your age.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Anyway, I’ve got to use the restroom,” Bert lied. Shiv may be smart, she may even be right, but Bert wanted to follow her gut feeling and just have a chat with Vera. She might be an aloof and domineering woman, but somewhere under it all was a soft side. Bert had seen glimpses of it that day.

  “The restroom?” Shiv called her bluff.

  Rolling her eyes playfully, Bert headed for the stone stairs. Walking along the veranda, she stepped inside the back door of the house that connected to the main hall—running all the way to the front of the building.

  The original tile flooring, laid piece by piece, was a beauty to behold. The wood molding and brass light fixtures made Bert feel like she’d just stepped into a British period piece, much like the television shows she sometimes watched.

  Walking along, her heels made a clipped noise that echoed through the hall. Coming to the center of the house where the stairway circled up to a second floor, a sudden and ear-shattering scream bounced off the stone walls and rattled Bert’s eardrums.

  “Good heavens, what was that?” she gasped, looking up at the top of the stairs and then forward toward the castle’s front door which sat open.

  Where had it come from? Inside or outside the house?

  Bert decided to try the front door first since it was closer than running all the way upstairs. Bolting out onto the front steps, she looked one way and then the other. She froze dead still upon spotting where the scream had come from. Claudia Thompson crouched over one of the stone fountains, her face pale with utter horror.

  Laying bent over the edge of the fountain with her face bobbing in the water was Vera Blackwell.

  Chapter 5

  * * *

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Detective Harry Mannor said as he walked up to the horrific scene. Bert had pulled a very upset, and sopping wet, Claudia away from the body and sat her down on the stone steps of the house. Despite her better judgment and the sense that Vera was already dead, Bert had pulled the body from the water to check for any vital signs and attempt to resuscitate. She’d attended an emergency training seminar some years back after her husband had passed when she was considering becoming an EMT. She thought helping others would take her mind off the grief, but only baking proved to do that.

  In the end, Vera was dead on the scene. Drowned.

  After all of that, she’d also managed to keep the crowds of party guests at bay until the police could arrive.

  In usual fashion, Detective Mannor was the first to arrive.

  “Hi, Harry,” she greeted him, motioning to the woman’s body which lay just off to the side of the fountain. “I pulled her out, but it was too late.”

  “The emergency technicians should be here soon. I just happened to be a few streets over.”

  “That was lucky,” Bert agreed.

  “Was there any sign of life when you pulled her out at all?”

  “None. She has a bump on the head that was bleeding a little. I think she must have gotten knocked out and fallen in the water.”

  “Or pushed,” he said matter-of-factly. As head of the homicide division, Harry always treated every death as a murder case first and foremost. Sometimes he acted like it wasn’t a murder case to keep Bert away from doing some investigating on her own—a habit she’d gotten into since she and the detective had met.

  She supposed it came with the territory.

  “It didn’t stop me from trying to revive her, though.”

  “Rightfully so,” he agreed, putting a hand on her shoulder before s
urveying the scene around him, his eyes landing on Claudia. “and her?”

  “She was bent over the body when I found them. I think she screamed when she found her.”

  Harry squinted his eyes at Claudia and Bert could already tell what he was thinking. Bert shook her head at him. “No. Claudia didn’t kill her if that’s what you’re thinking. She may be a gossip, but she honestly is as timid as a mouse under all of that.”

  “How’d she get so wet, then?” he pressed.

  The sound of sirens was fast approaching.

  “I think she said she fell in after being so shocked at seeing the body.”

  Mannor brushed his mustache back and forth, a familiar tell-tale sign that he was still suspicious of Claudia. He had met the woman in passing on a select few occasions, but that wouldn’t stop the hardened detective from bringing her to justice if he felt foul play was on the table. Bert, on the other hand, would be darned if Claudia would be taken in for a murder she didn’t commit.

  Luckily, she felt like she held at least a tiny bit of sway in the detective’s eyes.

  “Where are the other party guests?” Harry inquired, taking his eyes off Claudia.

  “They are all out back where I told them to stay until the police arrived.”

  “Well, we’re here. You can go back and stay with them now,” he instructed her, walking toward the crime scene proper to take a preliminary look at things.

  Bert, without thinking, instinctively started following him instead of doing as he said. “Hold on, what are you doing?” he demanded, turning and putting up a hand for her to stop.

  “Look, there were a few things I noticed that I thought I might point out to you,” she admitted, pointing at the scene. “Such as the shoe scuff marks on the polished outdoor tiles around the base of the fountain.” She’d noticed them when she laid out Vera’s body on the ground. It was like how tennis shoes might leave rubber scuffs on a freshly sheened basketball court.

  The sound of sirens screamed as multiple emergency vehicles, an ambulance, and cop cars, pulled through the front gate, their red and blue lights flashing.

  Harry scowled and folded his arms, looking down at the woman with a keen eye. “Bert, will you please return to the garden like I asked?”

  “What about that nasty bump on her head? It was bleeding pretty good when I pulled her out,” she said. She figured it could have been inflicted from tripping and falling but knew very well that it was a possibility that someone had hit the poor woman over the head to overpower her and then shoved her head under the water.

  Vera wasn’t exactly the most well-liked woman in Culver’s Hood, although most people wouldn’t have said so to her face.

  “Bert, do as I said,” he ordered, growing impatient with her.

  She knew she was overstepping her bounds, and it was time to retreat. In addition to her pie making skills, she had become known around town for her amateur sleuthing skills which had helped the police force catch a few other killers as well. She wanted to help, and more so wanted to make sure Claudia wasn’t to blame but would have to step aside for now.

  “And take care of your friend,” he said, jutting his chin out toward Claudia.

  “She might be in shock. The paramedics should have a look at her.”

  “And they will. I’ll send them back into the garden along with some of my men to get statements from the other guests. Now hurry up and let me do my job,” he grunted irritably, that familiar gruff attitude Bert had first seen on him months ago returning.

  Simply giving a nod to the affirmative, Bert walked over to the stone steps where her fellow church member sat quietly shivering. “Come on, Claudia. Let’s do as the detective says.” Putting an arm around her waist, Bert helped her stand up, realizing just how much the woman was shaking.

  Walking down the steps, she sighed and looked back toward the crime scene one last time. Looking up and down the building for any final clues, she spotted something that she hadn’t noticed the first time.

  The upstairs window sat ever so slightly ajar.

  Chapter 6

  * * *

  Bert wasn’t sure if the open window was pertinent or not. It could very well be that it had just been left open earlier. Still, if Detective Mannor wasn’t savvy about it, she was determined to have a quick look at the upper floor of the castle manor.

  Sitting Claudia down in a chair behind the food tables, Bert called Shiv over.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so. She might be in shock though,” she admitted, looking at Claudia who seemed lost and forlorn—as if trapped inside her own mind. When Bert had first found her, she had spewed out all sorts of explanations about what had happened. Now, however, she was quiet as a church mouse.

  “I thought she’d left the estate,” Shiv said.

  “She was supposed to, but once she reached the front gate, she ended up just pacing back and forth worrying about what had happened.” She leaned down to look into Claudia’s eyes. “Isn’t that right, Claudia?”

  The woman gave a nod. “I-I couldn’t stand being treated in such a way,” she whispered. “What an utter embarrassment.” A sob escaped her throat and she buried her face in her hands.

  Shiv instinctively came over and laid a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You had every right to feel upset.”

  “She’s right, you know?” Bert affirmed.

  “I was acting so terribly. I deserved to be treated like that,” she moaned through her fingers.

  The other party guests were all staring, whispering to one another with sideways glances. In some way, it was a taste of her own medicine for Claudia. On many occasions, she’d inadvertently devastated other women at the local congregation that she and Bert attended. At the same time, no one should have to be treated in such a way.

  “We all make mistakes, Claudia. That’s part of being human,” Bert told her, knowing there had been many sermons about the topic. “Now, you just have to look forward to the future.”

  “What future? That detective of yours thinks I killed Vera Blackwell,” she bawled, only drawing in even more attention to herself.

  Bert shifted her eyes around at the guests, trying her best to ward them off with a scathing glance. Her attempt did little good against the socialites.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Bert declared.

  Upon hearing this, Claudia gripped onto Bert’s arm, clutching it as if her life depended upon it. “Would you? I know what a knack you have for this sort of thing.”

  Bert tried not to point out how Claudia had, on more than one occasion, spread gossip about what a busy-body hobby amateur sleuthing was.

  “You have to prove I didn’t do this. All I did was find the body, I swear.”

  Shiv raised an eyebrow at Bert, not because she suspected Claudia, but because of the woman’s sudden reliance on a person she couldn’t exactly call a friend. Bert had complained about the gossip’s antics on more than one occasion to Shiv while they were working in the pie shop. Now Bert felt like she wasn’t much better than Claudia herself for having talked behind another person’s back.

  “Don’t worry. Just because you were seen near the body doesn’t give the detective enough evidence to arrest you. He’ll have to come up with more than that.”

  Claudia looked down at herself, at her wet dress. “Look at me, though. It looks like I jumped in and drowned her myself.”

  “But you said yourself that you happened to tumble in out of surprise when you found her,” Bert pointed out.

  Claudia licked her lips. “That’s true, but who will believe it?”

  “I do, and Shiv does,” Bert said, looking at Shiv and giving a silent request. Shiv agreed. “See? Things will be fine.”

  “But everyone here saw me leave in shame after Vera confronted me.”

  Bert looked around at the guests again, knowing just how scathing a few remarks from a group of determined women could be. “Look, I have an ide
a. I’m going to go into the house and check a few things out.”

  “Won’t you get in trouble?” Shiv pointed out, trying to logic Bert out of the decision again.

  “Right now, the police are concerned with cordoning off the scene and interviewing party guests. That means I have at least a few minutes to poke around inside.”

  “What do you think you’ll find?” Shiv demanded.

  “Trust me. I have a hunch that there is more to Vera’s death than meets the eye,” Bert said.

  * * *

  After giving Claudia strict instructions to have the EMTs look her over and make sure she was okay, and telling Shiv to also see that it happened, she looked around the garden one more time to make sure no one was watching her too closely and disappeared up the veranda and inside the building.

  Once past the door, she slunk into a small alcove and removed her high heels to keep them from clicking on the tile and making too much noise. She wanted as much time to check the second-floor window as possible without alerting the police officers that there were more people inside to be questioned.

  Peering out from her hiding spot behind a Greek-style statue in the alcove, she made sure no one was looking through the open front doors and tiptoed into the main hall. In two shakes of a leg, she was up the curved staircase and on the upper landing.

  Letting out a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn’t been seen, she turned down a hallway that she believed would lead to whatever room housed the window in question. The window was right above the fountain, so it had to be close to the top of the stairs.

  The first door she came to had a gold plaque on it with a name embossed. Sarah Ikerson – Winery Secretary. In all the excitement, Bert had nearly forgotten that this building acted as much of a place of business, as it did a home. They made small batches of fine wine to sell at a high price. Tasting some of the wine was one of Bert’s hopes for the day, despite only being a caterer.