Strangulation & Strawberry Cake Read online

  She felt a little twinge when morning came and Scott wasn't at her door with his usual cup of coffee in hand. After dropping her home, he'd decided to head back to Mulberry Mansion and stay there for a bit.

  There was a knock on the kitchen door and, for a brief moment, Rachel felt hopeful. She tried to hide her disappointment as she opened the door to find Emily instead.

  "Don't look so tragic,” Emily said. "I'm not going to stay long."

  "It's not that,” Rachel said, inviting her in. "I was just hoping Scott would be here."

  Emily scowled at the mention of her brother's name. "He's gotten himself tangled up in that family's business, hasn't he? He messaged me last night about the murder. It seems he thinks Grandma Mutton's life is in danger now and he's staying there out of some weird sense of duty to her."

  Rachel's mouth opened, shut and then opened again. "Scott thinks Grandma Mutton is in danger?"

  "I mean, he didn't say it outright. But, yes,” Emily said. "I'm good at reading between the lines when it comes to my big brother. I mean, Scott's really smart and all, obviously. But when it comes to family, he's like a Labrador — a big, friendly doofus with a great big heart and no brains."

  Rachel couldn't help but laugh, and also disagree. "First of all, Labradors have plenty of brains.”

  Emily smirked and eyed Scooter, who was licking the floor, his nose scrunched up against it. "Didn't you tell me Scooter runs headfirst into every mirror he sees? And that he tries to carry extra-large branches in the park that he continually trips over?”

  Rachel ignored this and continued, "Second of all, your brother's more of a German Shepherd. Police dog, through and through. Full of endless loyalty."

  "How about a Pitbull? Stubborn as a rock and then some?” Emily sighed. "Ok, look. Maybe I'm being paranoid. But that family... it's nothing but bad news. I'm worried about Scott. I really am."

  "That's sweet, Em. But you have to trust Scott to do the right thing."

  "I would…normally. But sometimes he's a sap. If you knew what I did—“ Emily sighed, and hoisted herself up on one of the barstools beside the table. She cupped her face with her hands and sniffed. "Is something burning?"

  With a little yelp, Rachel turned to the stove and began stirring a rich, sticky red concoction that was brewing in a saucepan.

  "What's that? Love potion?" Emily joked.

  "Strawberry puree,” Rachel said. "I'm trying to reduce it till it's nice and thick. Kinda…sauce-y.”

  "Much like you." Emily grinned and winked.

  Rachel took the saucepan off the stove to let it cool down. Then she busily prepared a basic cake batter — cracking eggs into a bowl and adding milk, flour and salt.

  "Whatcha making?"

  "Strawberry cake…again,” Rachel said. "I had some frosting left over and last night Grandma Mallory's birthday cake ended up on the floor, so I figured I'd give her a do-over cake. I mean, they're all feeling pretty bad over there. Maybe a cake will lift up their spirits a little."

  "Pfft. If you're giving her double the cake, you better take double the money,” Emily snorted.

  "Ok." Rachel turned around, put her hands on her hips and glared at Emily. "What's with you? It isn't like you to be this uncharitable. The Mutton family really had quite a shock last night, and on poor Grandma's 90th birthday, no less. Show some compassion, Em. All this sarcasm doesn't suit you."

  "Oooohhhhhh, compassion. You want compassion? Rachel, that house is full of monsters, okay? I know."

  "No, you don’t,” Rachel shot back. "Em, maybe they had a falling out with your mother. Okay. But that doesn't make them monsters. It's natural for you to be biased, but you weren't there. There are two sides to every story."

  "Oh, yeah?" Emily looked more indignant. "Well, you're right. I wasn't there. I was basically a baby when all the fights happened. But, guess what? I know exactly what happened. Better than anyone else, in fact. See, after my father died, when I was cleaning up his house, I found something…my mom's diaries."

  Rachel sucked in her breath.

  "Yep. Scott didn't want to read them, but I did. She had fifteen of them, starting since she was age fourteen. It was all heartbreaking stuff,” Emily said.

  "Em..."

  "If you read those diaries, Rachel, you'd hate that family, too,” Emily said, her eyes red.

  "What— what was in them?" Rachel was almost afraid to ask.

  "Bullying. Just non-stop, soul-destroying bullying. Grandma Mutton would spoil Uncle Jordan and be completely unfair to my mother. So many diary entries of my mom crying as a teenager because Uncle Jordan destroyed something she owned just for kicks. And Grandma Mutton would just punish her or scold her more if she complained."

  "That's really sad,” Rachel said.

  "I can't even imagine. It's not like Scott didn't bully me around a bit when we were kids, but he loved me. Uncle Jordan just sounds like a vicious monster who was determined to hurt my mom."

  "What about your Uncle Sid and Aunt Paris?" Rachel asked.

  "They were already out of the house by then, I think,” Emily said. "Mom hardly ever mentioned them. Though, she did sound happier when they visited."

  "Ok." Rachel stepped forward and put her hand on Emily's. "I'm sorry that happened to her."

  "Oh, sure,” Emily said. "But I can see it on your face — you still think I'm being harsh judging them all. Right? You haven't heard the rest, though."

  "So, tell me."

  "When my mom was 18, she met my dad. They fell in love and, two years later, they were engaged. Apparently, Grandma Mutton offered my dad a large amount of money if he'd leave mom. So, of course, mom and dad eloped."

  Rachel shook her head. "They were quite a pair, your mom and dad."

  "They really were." Emily smiled, looking proud. "They were both broke, and mom got pregnant soon after. Grandma Mutton didn't bother to send as much as a card. But, it didn't bother mom. She cared more about love than money. Those years, her diary was full of happy times. Until, after I was born, when my mom decided to let them into her life again."

  "And then?"

  "And then? It started all over. Uncle Jordan showing off his money. Uncle Jordan insulting my dad. Grandma Mutton just supporting him and never asking him to apologize. My mom wrote about her dilemma in the diaries. She really wanted me and Scott to have a big family to lean on. But was it worth it if they were so mean? Something finally happened that decided for her."

  "What was it?"

  "We had a heatwave that summer and Grandma Mutton was supposed to take care of Scott for the day,” Emily said. "Keep in mind, Scott was only about four at the time.”

  "Uh-oh,” Rachel said.

  "Yep. She left him in a hot car while she went off to shop in a mall.” Emily was incensed.

  "He could have died!" Rachel was appalled.

  "Uh-huh. But, luckily, some passing stranger broke the window and saved him,” Emily explained. "Mom was furious. Grandma Mutton didn't even apologize. She said mom was being too sensitive."

  "Oh, my." Rachel's eyes were wide. "You can't be serious." Then again, even with the little she'd seen of Grandma Mutton the night before, Rachel could imagine the lady being arrogant and stubborn even when she'd been completely wrong.

  “Oh, I am. When Grandma Mutton refused to apologize, mom decided to cut her off from seeing either of us ever again. So Grandma Mutton cried and cried about how cruel my mom was being. But she still never apologized. She basically created a whole lot of drama. It's all in my mom's diaries. Day after day, she'd get phone calls from each of her siblings telling her how much her mother was ‘suffering’ and how my mom was being a bad daughter."

  "That just..." Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry, Em. It sounds like your mom had a hard time."

  "Yeah. She made it very clear that all she was looking for was an understanding from Grandma Mutton that she'd done something wrong. But Grandma Mutton was too stubborn to admit it. Instead, she tried to pressure my mom to bow down b
y using her brothers and sister."

  "Wow." Rachel didn't have too much to say.

  "Yep. And it all came to an explosion one day when Uncle Jordan showed up at our door and started yelling at mom. He was trying to bully her into apologizing to Grandma Mutton.”

  "What then?"

  "Well, things got more and more heated. He and mom started fighting loudly right out on our doorstep. Uncle Jordan hated that she wasn't bowing down to him anymore. He lost his temper completely and then he tried to strangle mom. Scott was right there crying. Remember, he was just four."

  "This is just..." Rachel shook her head. "It's unbelievable. Just bizarre. Horrible. How could things escalate so much?"

  "Easily,” Emily said. “Until that point, my Uncle Jordan and Grandma Mutton considered my mom to be some kind of servant who was supposed to be under their control all the time. They didn't like her ‘rebelling’ one bit. So, naturally, they tried to force her into compliance."

  Rachel nodded. It did make sense in a twisted way. She could imagine it. Grandma Mutton riling up Uncle Jordan, poking him about Emily's mother over and over until, finally, things exploded.

  "So...the aftermath,” Emily said. "My mom called the police on Uncle Jordan and stopped talking to her family forever. Grandma Mutton, in a move that surprised absolutely nobody, used her money and influence to get Uncle Jordan off, scot-free. As for Aunt Paris and Uncle Sid, I guess they decided they needed Grandma Mutton's money more than they needed my mother's company. They never spoke to her again, either."

  "Wow." Rachel shook her head. "Just...wow."

  "Thank you." Emily raised her chin, giving Rachel that eerie feeling once more of seeing Grandma Mutton reflected in the gesture. "Well, now you see why I hate them all and why I think Scott's being stupid even trying to interact with them."

  "This is just…it's a lot to take in,” Rachel said. She sat down heavily on a stool and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "Does Scott know this? All of it?"

  "He says he remembers some of it — the fights, being rescued from the car." Emily nodded. "I filled him in on the rest."

  "And?"

  "And? Like I said. Labrador. Big heart. He's ready to forgive and forget, embrace them all." Emily shook her head. "Me, I don’t think they’ve changed one bit. They're still as arrogant and rude as ever. Only now they're looking to make Scott the scapegoat instead of my mom."

  Rachel sighed. "I don't know. It feels more complicated than that."

  "No, it doesn't. I know exactly why he stayed over at Grandma's yesterday. Doofus is trying to be the great big hero. Some part of him hopes that if he rescues them from this mess, he'll heal all our rifts." For the first time, Emily's temper was replaced with a genuine look of concern. "As for me, I'm worried, Rachel. Scott's more vulnerable than he knows. In the last few years he's lost one of his best friends and he lost Aunt Rose, who was like a second mom to the two of us. I've been all wrapped up with my Jay and Ollie and, well, I think Scott's more lonely than he lets on. I really hope that Grandma Mutton doesn't mess with his head. Or promise him affection and then turn on him." Emily sighed, and put her face down on the table. "I know he's this big, tough sheriff and I shouldn't worry. But I do. Does that make sense?"

  "Perfectly,” Rachel said.

  "Can you promise me something, then?" Emily asked.

  "Anything."

  "Will you make sure he's ok? I mean, I felt really glad when you went with him last night. At least he had a friend by his side."

  Touched, Rachel leaned forward and took Emily's hand in her own. "I promise."

  *****

  Chapter 7

  Zizka's Woes

  The rain had worn itself out and the sun was back sitting triumphant in the sky when Rachel pulled up at Mulberry Mansion. She noticed a squad car with Bertford Police stenciled on the side was parked outside. Two cops were leaning on the car, drinking coffee out of Styrofoam cups. They examined her briefly and one said, "No reporters. Get on out of here." It took a while for her to explain who she was and be buzzed in.

  By the time she drove in, Scott was already waiting for her by the fountain. As soon as she'd parked, he opened the car door for her and wrapped her up in a tight hug. Rachel leaned back, put a hand on his cheek and just took a second to look at him. He had stubble on his jaw and dark shadows under his eyes, but his smile was genuinely bright as his eyes rested on her.

  "I thought you'd be busy at the bakery,” he said.

  "I was." Rachel smiled and turned back to her car. "I made another cake for Grandma Mallory."

  "Oh, you shouldn't have,” Scott said.

  "It was the least I could do." Rachel shrugged. "How is she holding up?"

  Scott sighed. "She's ok. A little nervous, I think. Though she refuses to show it."

  "I've noticed that about her." Rachel smiled. "And you? How are you, Scott?"

  Scott scoffed and brushed off her question without answering. He took the cake from her and led her inside instead. "Come on. Everyone's in the family room, as usual. Let's surprise them with it." He headed to the kitchen, pulling Rachel behind him.

  When they walked into the kitchen, Zizka was leaning half-inside one of the lower cabinets. She gave a little yelp as she heard their footsteps and nearly bumped her head as she extracted herself.

  "Mr. Scott? Ms. Rachel? You startled me."

  "Sorry, Zizka,” Scott said. "Rachel bought some more cake. We were planning on plating it up and taking it in to the others."

  "I'll do that,” Zizka said with a sniff. She gave Rachel a friendly smile for the first time. "Nice of you to bake one again, Ms. I feel so bad I dropped yours yesterday. I mean, you must have worked so hard on it."

  "Oh, no. Not a problem at all." Rachel smiled.

  "It's a lovely cake, too." Zizka said as she took it out of the box. "So perfectly pink! And without any coloring added!"

  Rachel puffed up a little. "The secret is to add strawberry puree in with the cake batter and mix until it's a perfectly smooth pink batter,” she explained. "But the frosting is where I really—“

  "Zizka!!" A voice rang out from the next room.

  Zizka sighed. "Excuse me, Ms."

  "That's ok. We'll bring the cake along,” Scott said. He waited until Zizka left, then turned to Rachel.

  "Hey, you have frosting on your cheek again,” he said with a frown.

  "What? How's that possible? I—“ Rachel touched her cheek self-consciously and brought her hand away with nothing on it. She was confused for a second, until Scott took a tiny dot of frosting that had stuck to the inside the box and wiped it on her cheek.

  "Scott,” Rachel groaned, throwing her head back.

  "Hang on, let me clean it up for you." He put a warm hand on the back of her neck and drew her closer to him. Then slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, he bent his head forward and kissed it off her cheek. Rachel felt herself melt. She bit her lip, caught between wanting to drag his lips onto hers and knowing that someone was liable to come in at any second.

  "Whoops." Zizka was back again, her cheeks cherry red. Scott sprang apart from Rachel and tried to act nonchalant while Rachel looked down at the floor.

  "Uh, Mrs. Mallory was wondering where you were, Mr. Scott,” Zizka said. "I told her you'd be right along."

  "I'll…yeah…let's go see Grandma." Scott nodded to Rachel.

  "You go along. I'll be right with you,” Rachel said. "I'll help Zizka with the cake."

  "Oh, there's no need for that." Zizka looked horrified at the thought. "You're a guest!"

  Rachel shot Scott a look, then turned her eyes to the door. He nodded, understanding, and left immediately.

  Zizka, still flustered, was bringing out a tray and placing cutlery on it.

  "I hope you didn't have a sleepless night,” Rachel said. "It must have been hard to rest with the murder and all."

  "Oh, I was tossing and turning.“ Zizka shivered. "The police were so horrible, too! Trying to say I was lying!"
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  "What? Why would they say that?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" Zizka looked spiteful. "If it comes down to it, do you think Captain Walter will be happier arresting a poor maid or a member of Bertford's richest family?"

  "That's..." Rachel didn't know what to say.

  Zizka nodded. "Exactly. Luckily for me, Mrs. Mallory chewed Captain Walter up. He left me alone after that." A smile softened Zizka's face. "You know, it takes some time to get to know her, but Mrs. Mallory is a good woman."

  Rachel looked doubtful but Zizka nodded furiously. "She really is. I've been with her thirty five years and she still asks me for every single grocery receipt to check that the change is alright. But when my mother needed a surgery back in Ukraine, Mrs. Mallory lent me the money and never even asked for it back. Strange, is it not?"

  Rachel filed this away, wondering what Emily would think of it. Zizka continued, "She's such an active woman, too. Even at her age! She drives Ms. Bethany quite mad sometimes. You know, like when Mr. Jordan and Ms. Bethany went away for a week a few months ago, Mrs. Mallory decided to change the decor of the entire house while they were gone! Can you imagine? She changed everything — from the art on the walls to the furniture, even down to the color of the sideboards. Even Mr. Sidney was shocked when he came home this time and saw how much had changed. He said he missed the old artwork on his room's walls. I didn't even think a man like him would notice!" Zizka chuckled.

  Impatient, Rachel asked, "Hmmm. But did the police learn anything about the person who bumped into you? Find shoe prints or something?"

  "Ach. No." Zizka sighed. "Useless louts. They didn't find a thing, and the hallway was fairly messed up. But…” Zizka hesitated. "I think the killer was wearing long sleeves. When he or she brushed past me, our forearms touched. My skin touched their sleeve and I think some of the cake must have gotten on it, too."

  Rachel bit her lip. "That's important. But..." She shook her head. "We would have noticed, wouldn't we? When we gathered in the family room, nobody had any icing on their clothes. Shoes, yes. But not on anyone’s clothes."