you say we dispense with menu planning for a few minutes and have some tea?”
Tears welled in Cameron’s eyes. She bit her lip, nodded, and went to fetch them each a fresh cup.
“People who know you describe you as vivacious and enthusiastic.” Lydia accepted the warm pot and poured herself a generous amount of citrus-scented liquid. “What has you so down today?”
Cameron traced a lazy finger around a saucer covered in red English roses. “That woman they describe died in December. This is who I am now.”
“What happened? May I call you Cameron?”
She nodded. “My fiance died. Suddenly. Unexpectedly.” Cameron dropped her head and wept. “Friends tell me it’ll get easier. But it doesn’t.”
“Oh, Cameron,” Lydia whispered. “I’m so sorry. How did he die?”
She wiped her eyes with a damask napkin. “Heart attack. He’d been under a lot of strain at work. Long hours. I told him he needed a vacation.” Her voice shook. “We planned to elope to Paris the end of May. When classes were finished and before my summer season got too busy. He said we’d take a month and bike the countryside.”
“Were you with him when it happened?” Lydia asked.
“No. It was just before Christmas. The shop was crazy with holiday parties. We planned a late dinner. When he didn’t come by I called him.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No answer. I tried later. When he still didn’t answer I drove to his house.” She covered her face with both hands. “I could see him in the chair. I thought he was asleep. I let myself in. He was already cold.”
Lydia let her cry for a few moments, knowing the release would help. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
Cameron shivered despite the shop’s cozy warmth. “Every morning I wake up. For a heartbeat or two I’m fine. Then I remember he’s dead. I’ll never see him again. Never hear his voice.” She turned to Lydia with an empty gaze. “My life is over.”
Lydia sat and wondered what kind of threat this grieving woman posed that could drive someone to order her execution. She hoped Cameron could provide clues to the person who held control over both their lives.
“You said you were going to elope when classes were over. Was your fiance a school teacher?” Lydia asked.
Cameron offered a brief smile. “No. He was with the university. His work was very important. I hate to admit I didn’t understand most of it. You give me six ingredients and I’ll give you a gourmet meal in twenty minutes. You start talking hormones and neurotransmitters and my eyes glaze over.” She shook her head. “Fred and I were about as opposite as two people could be.”
Lydia’s attention clicked into hyper-focus. “What position did your fiance hold at the university, Cameron?”
She lifted her tear-streaked face in pride. “He was chairman of the neuroscience department. Fred Bastian. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
“I believe I have.” Lydia felt herself tumbling down a black hole. The night at the warehouse flashed through her memory. Bastian butchering the Silverback Gorilla. A flush of sweat tickled under her arms. Bastian was the link between Cameron and Private Number.
“Didn’t your fiance work with animals? Something about emotions?” Lydia began with the obvious: was Cameron connected to the slaughter of Ortoo?
“I hated that part of his work. I mean, don’t we have computers for that nowadays? But Fred assured me his animals were well cared for. He even offered to take me on a tour of his lab anytime I wanted.” She crinkled her nose. “But I never did.”
Lydia sensed she was telling the truth. What else could Cameron know that would inspire someone to want her dead?
“Was there anything at work that was bothering him, I wonder?” Lydia hoped she sounded pleasant enough to keep Cameron talking.
Cameron shrugged and wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron. “Typical stuff. It’s not easy running a department that big. But he’d been doing it a long time and his people loved him.”
But Lydia knew someone wanted both Bastian and Cameron dead.
Cameron wiped her tears and tilted her chin. “Why are you interested?”
Lydia smiled. “I’m just trying to get you talking about your fiance, is all. Maybe help you see he might have had some peace when he died.”
Lydia watched Cameron consider the idea. “I’d like that. I’d like to know he was at peace.”
“Tell me how you met.” She hoped Cameron would reveal something that could lead to Private Number. “How’s a gourmet chef hook up with an Ivory Tower genius?”
Cameron’s shoulders relaxed and she took a deep breath. “Fred called it kismet. Every year he hosts a party. Invites the entire department to his home. Spouses, too. Well over two hundred people. He’s so generous. There’s always a theme for the decorations and the food. He holds it on Valentine’s Day so they’ll keep their heart in their work.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “That was his little joke.”
Lydia sat quietly as Cameron relished the memory.
“Last year’s theme was Romance in the Rockies. Fred always used Julie Christopher as his caterer. But Julie fell and broke both arms five days before the party. She was frantic. Called and begged me to take it.” Cameron stopped for a moment. “I arrived at Fred’s house at noon to begin cooking for a party that started at seven. He hung around.” Cameron’s faraway smile seemed fueled by the thought. “He asked questions. Then he asked for samples. He pitched in and washed dishes. I was impressed.” She gave a small laugh. “By the time guests started to arrive I was sorry to see him leave. But he kept coming back, checking on things. He helped me close up after the party. Sent my staff home. When the last box was loaded into my van he took me into his arms and kissed me.”
“So you got the gig and the guy, huh?” Lydia hoped she sounded cavalier. “How did Julie Christopher feel about that?”
Cameron looked confused by the question. “Julie? She loves to tell the story. Brags that her fall made Fred fall. She’s a real romantic. She and Michael have been married over forty years but they’re as in love as a couple of high schoolers.”
Lydia felt the chill of another trail gone cold. Neither animal cruelty nor business rivalry appeared to be motivating the hit on Cameron. She tried again.
“It does sound destined, doesn’t it? And not just Julie’s fall landing you the job. I mean, what are the odds two people your ages would both be free to act on such an instant attraction?”
Cameron winced. “Fred was used to dating powerful career women. No one seriously. But I had an obstacle.” She looked down at her lap. “I was engaged at the time. The wedding was just weeks away, actually.” She looked up with sheepish eyes. “My fiance didn’t take my announcing I’d fallen in love with Fred very well.”
Lydia felt the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders begin to tingle. “Tell me about that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mort sat with his third cup of coffee and stared at the folder he’d just closed. He’d requested a background on Lydia after she offered to help with the Buchner investigation. The Mapquest files on Buchner’s computer made him even more interested to learn about the Olympia psychologist with such keen observation skills.
A lot of it was pretty much what he’d expected. No criminal history. Purchased the property listed at the Mapquested address four years ago. Paid her taxes on time. Credit score in the mid seven hundreds. Graduated with honors from the University of Pennsylvania with a Ph. D. in Clinical Psychology. Biology undergrad out of Carnegie-Mellon. Member of two professional organizations, one of which managed her retirement fund. Owns a four year old Volvo that’s never been ticketed or stopped for a traffic violation. Same office since she arrived in Olympia eight years ago, straight out of grad school. No complaints lodged against her professional license.
Squeaky clean. Not even a ne’er-do-well husband to check into.
How’s a woman like that end up being checked out by a guy who gets his face blown off?
