My spirits lifted. Relatives of the deceased putting the smackdown on each other was definitely a good place to find murder clues.
“The two of them can’t decide on anything,” Paige said, then gestured to the curtained doorway. “Even the furniture. Belinda claimed what she wanted, then Darren saw it and got mad and pushed some of it back in his pile. It’s crazy.”
“I didn’t know Lacy had a brother,” I said.
Of course, I didn’t know anything about Lacy, except that the cake she made for my mom totally sucked, but I didn’t think this was the time to say so.
“They weren’t close,” Paige said, leaning her head right, then left, studying the cake she was sculpting. “He lives up north, some little town near San Francisco. I just met him when he showed up here after Lacy died.”
“And their cousin came down with him?” I asked.
“No, she lives here,” Paige said, and cut a big chunk out of the cake.
Maybe it was a frog.
“Belinda something-or-other,” she said.
“I need to find out about the cake,” I said, though what I really needed to find out was what was up with Darren and Belinda. “Do you have contact info for them?”
“Sure,” Paige said, and pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her apron. She studied it and said, “Belinda Giles. Yeah, that’s her name. And take my number too, you know, just in case.”
She read off their phone numbers and I programmed them into my cell phone, then gave her my number.
“Darren is staying at the Best Western a couple of block down on Sepulveda,” Paige said. “You can’t miss it—he’s driving our delivery van.”
“Belinda must have loved that,” I said, hoping to get a little more gossip.
“Yeah, those two are seriously going at it,” Paige said. “I don’t know where you can find Belinda. She’d been in here a few times, but honestly, I didn’t know she was Lacy’s cousin until she showed up after Lacy died and Darren mentioned it.”
“Well, thanks for the help,” I said.
“Yeah, sure. And let me know if you want me to do that Beatles cake,” Paige said. “Sounds like fun.”
I wondered if it would sound like fun to Belinda and Darren.
CHAPTER 9
It wasn’t hard to figure out which Best Western Darren Hobbs was staying in as I cruised down Sepulveda Boulevard—the delivery van with the Lacy Cakes logo on the sides gave it away big-time.
Best Western had nice motels, but nobody—not even Best Western—thought they were catering to discerning travelers. This one looked a little worn.
I swung into the parking lot, took a slot a few spaces down from the Lacy Cakes van, and cut the engine. Paige had told me Darren’s last name was Hobbs, so I figured either Lacy had never married or she was using her maiden name for some reason.
Maybe she was trying to hide something.
I hoofed it to the motel office, and the guy on duty phoned Darren’s room and let him know he had a guest. I went back outside. A minute or two later, a man stepped out of room 112 on the first floor, near the Lacy Cakes van.
“Darren?” I asked, as I walked up.
“Yes,” he said.
Wow, do I have mad Scooby-Doo skills or what?
Darren looked to be in his fifties, dressed in navy blue work pants and shirt, with a halfhearted comb-over ringed by a fringe of graying hair.
I introduced myself and added, “I’m sorry about your sister.”
I saw no reason to mention I’d found her body.
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” he said, though it didn’t look as if it really made any difference to him one way or the other.
“I hate to bother you at a time like this,” I said. I didn’t, of course, but this sounded nicer. “I have a cake order pending with Lacy Cakes. Paige said she wants to make the cake but that I should talk to you.”
“Paige told you that, huh?” he asked, and uttered a disgusted grunt. “She’s anxious to keep the place going—a little too anxious, if you ask me.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“That’s all she’s talked about since I got here,” Darren said. “Keeping the place open, filling the orders. Claims she can make cakes as good as Lacy.”
“You don’t think that’s true?” I asked.
“How would I know?” Darren flung out both hands. “I just got here. I haven’t seen Lacy in years. I had to leave my own business and come down here to straighten out this mess. I had to come up with money for a plane ticket and look at what I’m driving—in this traffic.”
He pointed at the delivery van and shook his head. “Twelve miles to the gallon, if that.”