Death of a Christmas Caterer by Lee Hollis

greeted Hayley and Sergio at the door, she was dressed in a black dress, with white pearls hanging around her neck. She wore her normally wavy long brown hair in a severe tight bun. She was clearly in mourning, as this was not the Tiffany whom Hayley knew from the bake sales and bike rides. She was usually much more provocatively dressed and a free spirit.
    Hayley instantly felt pity for the grieving widow.
    Tiffany led them into her living room, where she had set out some tea and freshly baked scones.
    â€œThank you for seeing us, Tiffany. I know this is an extremely difficult time,” Hayley said.
    Tiffany nodded and motioned for them to take a seat on the couch. She sat down opposite them in a floral-print upholstered chair.
    â€œI just have a few questions I would like to ask,” Sergio said, barreling ahead in his “bull in a china shop” kind of way.
    Hayley kicked his foot with her own and he slightly winced.
    Tiffany didn’t notice. She was staring at the mantel above the fireplace, gazing at a framed wedding photo of her and Garth on a beach in Hawaii. “I can’t believe we were married fifteen years. It seems like yesterday when we took the plunge in Maui. We still had so many plans. . . .”
    Hayley sensed Sergio was about to speak, so she kicked his foot again. Sergio turned to Hayley, who glared at him, silently ordering him to give the poor widow a few moments to remember her husband before so callously diving in with his questions.
    â€œWe were going to expand the business. Maybe open a restaurant next summer. We were drawing up plans to build a new house in Seal Harbor. And, of course, we wanted to travel more and see the world. Just last month Garth received an invitation to teach a course at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. Can you believe that? I’ve never been to France.”
    â€œThat’s such an honor,” Hayley said. “You must have been so proud of him.”
    â€œI begged him to take better care of himself—to give up tobacco, exercise more—but he was so stubborn. I go to the gym five times a week. Him? Never. I always feared his smoking and those rich, heart-clogging sauces would finally catch up to him.”
    Tiffany lifted the silver teapot to pour them some tea.
    Hayley and Sergio exchanged a quick look.
    Sergio cleared his throat. “Mrs. Rawlings, I’m afraid your husband did not die of a heart attack, as we originally believed. His death has been ruled a homicide.”
    Tiffany dropped the teapot and it crashed into the half-full teacup, knocking it over and spilling tea all over the service tray. “What?”
    â€œWe just received the coroner’s report last night.”
    â€œIt can’t be,” Tiffany said, eyes welling up with tears. “Who would want to hurt Garth? He was a loving husband. A decent man. He had no enemies, to speak of. The coroner is wrong. That’s the only thing that makes sense. We all know she’s been wrong before.”
    â€œI read the report,” Sergio said. “Based on her findings, the evidence unequally suggests—”
    â€œâ€˜Unequivocally,’” Hayley said.
    â€œ Unequivocally suggests someone killed him,” Sergio said, rolling his eyes at Hayley. “And at this point, I’m inclined to believe her. We’re just having a hard time figuring out how it happened.”
    â€œBut everybody in town loved Garth!” Tiffany wailed.
    That was a tough sell. Anyone with a passing familiarity with Garth Rawlings’s personality would wholeheartedly disagree with his distraught widow.
    â€œThere must have been someone, Tiffany, maybe from Garth’s past who might not have believed he was a swell guy at some point,” Hayley said.
    â€œWell, yes, of course. I mean, when you’re as successful as Garth, you don’t get there without stepping on a few toes. But that’s all in the past now. All was forgiven.”
    â€œWho