“Now,” she said. “We got one more question, I think.”
“How Katherine got the poison into Paul’s food,” Jason said.
Carmen nodded. “Zoe worked with him at a restaurant. So, like, that would have been obvious, if she’d actually done it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And his sister said Paul had been trying to make friends with Zoe, to help her.”
“But if Zoe didn’t administer the poison, why did the detective think she did?” Carmen asked.
I raised a finger. “And along those lines, why did Gifford come to arrest Zoe for the murder when his evidence wasn’t foolproof? Doesn’t it seem odd, Jason? When did he bring Katherine in for questioning, anyway?”
“It was pretty early in the afternoon,” Jason replied. “It took them a while to find her after Cody spilled, which was at around eleven, I think. Gifford’s people finally tracked down Katherine showing a wedding venue up the coast to prospective clients. At the time, it was her sworn testimony that sent him after Zoe. But with the messages Zoe saved, Katherine’s in big trouble.”
I sipped my cold, sweet drink. “I hope she’s locked up when that wedding date comes around.”
“I don’t think Katherine’s going to be helping anybody else get married,” Carmen said. “It’s a relief and a half to think of her behind bars.”
“As to how she dosed his food, Gifford’s team is on it,” Jason continued. “Katherine easily could have broken into the kitchen. Cody told us she was always hanging around Paul, trying to get him to stop his protests, so she likely knew what his lunchbox looked like.”
“Right,” I said. “Grace told me the apartment’s windows aren’t in good shape. The landlord doesn’t care much about the building. And there’s such a big hedge at the side of the property no one would have seen somebody breaking into a side window or the back door. Do you think Katherine did it overnight?”
“She could have done it then, or the next morning when Etxgeberria was in the habit of going for a long bike ride and his housemate had an early yoga class,” Jason said. “Not sure Gifford knows, exactly.”
“I think I told you I saw Katherine walking on the beach with Paul on Monday night,” I said. “They were arguing.”
“She would have had no trouble obtaining a lethal sample of the fungicide from her dad’s company. Katherine always did like to be in control.” Jason’s tone was wry.
“She was the first to admit it.” I tapped the kitchen island with a finger, thinking. “Poor Cody. His sister is a murderer. His father’s a sick gambler. And Cody’s opposed to his father’s livelihood. I hope the kid makes it.”
“He was a good worker when he washed dishes for me back a few years,” Carmen said. “Nice boy. Honest.”
“That he is,” Jason said. “I was serious about hiring him, Rob. I’ll look out for him, make sure he gets some counseling. He’ll be all right.”
Carmen regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “You’re a good guy.”
Jason blushed and batted away the compliment.
“Jason, what if Walter knew what Katherine was up to?” I asked. “Maybe he helped her, supplied her with the chemicals. How can Gifford figure that out?”
“They have ways. Basic evidence gathering, communications, witness interviews. If Walter colluded with his daughter, Giff will nail him, I promise.” He stood. “I need to get some sleep. I drew the early shift tomorrow.”
“On a Saturday?” Carmen asked.
Jason threw back his shoulders and gave a mock salute. “The criminal world never sleeps, ma’am.” He grinned, pushing up his geeky glasses.
Carmen extended her hand. “You come back to eat, hijo. First meal is on the house.”
“I will.” He shook her hand with both of his.
“You’re the nicest cop I ever met.” She wagged her head in wonder.
“Hey, we’re not all bad. I am happy to know you, and your lovely mother, as well.” He glanced at me. “Rob, let’s not wait another ten years before hanging out again, okay?”
“You got it.” We executed our ritual fist bump.
After he left, I sat with Carmen another few minutes while we finished our drinks. We talked shop about running a restaurant and a B-and-B. Even though our establishments were more than two thousand miles apart, we had tons in common—reservation systems, food-ordering software, getting reliable help, health department regulations. Finally, I rose. I gave the kitty one last pet, then straightened.
“I’m on the early shift, too. Carmen, this has been wonderful. I don’t mean the murder part, but getting to know you. I feel like I’ve made a new friend.”
“Amiga.”
We exchanged a hug. “You have my credit card on file,” I said.
“I’ll e-mail your receipt for the room in the morning. You travel safe, now.”
I thanked her and trudged upstairs. This small corner of the world, nestled between mountains and sea, had justice restored once again. The Wicked Witch was behind bars. And this Dorothy was heading home. I didn’t even have to click my heels.
Recipes
Mexican Chocolate Almond Cakes
Hector makes these easy mini-cakes as a dessert at his food truck. They’re like eating Mexican hot chocolate in a cake.
Ingredients
1 cup almond flour
⅓ cup unbleached flour or rice flour (for
gluten free)
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 stick unsalted butter
⅓ cup dark cocoa powder
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1 tablespoon baking powder
4 large egg whites
1 tablespoon dark rum or bourbon
¾ cup sugar
Directions
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Spray a 24-cup mini-muffin tin with oil.
In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter, then continue to cook, swirling the pan often, until fragrant and deep golden brown, four to five minutes. Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes, stir in cocoa powder, cinnamon, chipotle powder, and rum. Set aside.
Whip egg whites on medium high until light and foamy. Don’t overbeat or
