Cat's Got Your Arsenic

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Cat's Got Your Arsenic Page 5

by Tara Meyers


  Glancing up at a large archaic clock mounted above the ornate entrance to City Hall, Ember quickened her step. She was going to be late, and the mayor would remind her of it all through lunch. The Rusty Wagon Wheel was only a few blocks away from the clinic, but she wondered if perhaps it would have been better to drive. Mel was already out running errands and was meeting her there. She could at least catch a ride back with her.

  Ember breathed in the crisp air to clear her head. She’d been mulling over the disturbing number of missing pets in the county. She’d dug up numerous reports scattered over the previous month. To her, it seemed like a lot, even when taking the coyotes into consideration. Maybe she’d ask Becky some more questions about it when she got to the Wagon Wheel.

  Ember and Mel met with Becky and Mayor Elly Gomez every Wednesday for lunch. The local restaurant was a good central location and always had great food. She normally enjoyed the playful banter between her Aunt Becky and the mayor, a longtime friend of Becky’s, but she wasn’t really in the mood.

  It had already been a long day, and there were several more pets to be seen that afternoon. She’d rather have stayed back and got caught up on paperwork, but she knew they needed to discuss the fast-approaching Christmas dinner. While she and Mel weren’t official members of The Ladies of Sanctuary, they’d managed to get sucked into all the prep work by association.

  The eightieth annual Ladies of Sanctuary Christmas Dinner Social was an event not taken lightly. Founded in 1938, the traditions were well embedded within the community, and although the core members were an elite group of town monarchs, dozens of other business owners and council members participated in the dinner. Ember was looking forward to the night of warm customs and friendly gathering, but the mayor had a way of making the responsibilities associated with it rather daunting.

  “Hello, Dr. Burns!”

  Ember glanced up from where she was studying the best route through the snowy sidewalk to see Cody approaching with an armful of bags bearing the Crystal Haven logo.

  “Hey, Cody.” Pausing, she saw that at least one of the bags was full of pies. “You know you can call me Ember. Don’t listen to whatever Mel told you about me. I’m not uptight.”

  Cody gave a crooked smile. “Whatever you say…Ember. See ya around.”

  Ember couldn’t help but watch as he walked away, her curiosity again piqued. She’d tried to broach the subject with Mel the day before, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk about the sheriff’s son’s current living arrangement. He was supposed to be at college for another year.

  A gust of chilling wind spurred her back into motion. The music of a Christmas carol drifted out of a gift shop as she passed, reminding Ember of how close they were to the holiday. Christmas Eve was only one week away, and the town was in full tourist mode. Aside from the Fourth of July, Christmas in Sanctuary was the most popular time of year. While it was sometimes difficult to get there in winter, travelers considered the payoff to be worth it.

  Ember pulled open the door to The Rusty Wagon Wheel and paused to look back at the wintery afternoon scene. Live cedar garland lined the streets, and bunches of green holly with red berries wrapped the light poles. Four-foot-tall plastic candy canes alternated with carved wooden nutcrackers at the street corners. As she watched, an old-fashioned wagon filled with hay rounded a corner onto Main Street. It was pulled by draft horses, and a family with laughing children rode on top of the hay, pointing at the decorations as they passed.

  Ember smiled and waved back as they passed before ducking inside, her mood suddenly lighter. It was good to be reminded of what was important. Time spent with friends and family was just as vital as paperwork.

  Passing up the hostess desk, she walked through the crowded restaurant to their regular table in the back. She didn’t know what they would do if another group was seated there, since it had never happened. Chuckling at the absurdity of the thought, Ember began pulling her layers of cold-weather gear off as she approached the group.

  “You’re late.”

  Shooting a look of mock annoyance at Mayor Gomez, Ember draped her coat over a chair before plopping into it. “My four-legged patients don’t always understand the concept of a lunch break.”

  “It’s fine; we already ordered.” Becky shoved a cup of coffee across the table at Ember. “I hope you’re feeling like your normal rusty burger special.”

  Ember nodded in agreement and then turned to Mel beside her. “I passed Cody on my way here.”

  Mel crinkled her eyes at her in annoyance, and Ember immediately understood, but there was no taking it back.

  “I was just asking her about young Mr. Walker,” Mayor Gomez interjected, leaning forward to emphasize her dissatisfaction. “But apparently, that topic is off limits. I don’t really understand why no one is willing to explain what happened to make him leave college, but I heard it involved a DUI that resulted in his scholarship being lost and―”

  “Yes, yes, the troubled prodigal son returns in shame to deliver pies. Can we move on to the next bit of gossip?” Mel snapped.

  Mayor Gomez stared at Mel, her mouth hanging open. “There’s no need to be rude. I personally think it’s best to lay the rumors to rest and get to the truth.”

  “Elly,” Becky cautioned, the only one in the group that called the mayor by her first name. “It’s none of our business. Now. Didn’t you tell me you had some important items to discuss for the Christmas social?”

  The food arrived then, providing the perfect distraction. As the waitress went about setting out all of the plates, Ember mouthed “Sorry” to Mel, who offered a small knowing smile in return.

  They ate the bulk of the meal in blessed silence. Ember wasn’t much of a meat eater, but she couldn’t pass up a burger from her favorite steakhouse. They were also famous for their freshly made steak fries and even sold them frozen, by the bag.

  After finishing off her second cup of coffee, she pushed her empty plate back and checked the time. She’d have to leave soon.

  “Becky, we need to add three more tables to the dinner. That includes the centerpiece, plates, and cutlery. Can the caterer accommodate twenty-four more servings?” Mayor Gomez started pulling sheets of paper from her purse as she spoke.

  “Twenty-five,” Ember corrected. “I invited Sandy Ellsworth to sit at our table.

  “And she said yes?” Mel snickered. “She must have a new dress to show off.”

  Ember ignored the slam and tried to keep the conversation on a positive note. “Is there anything else I can help with? I’ve already posted the flyers you gave me last week, and the candles I ordered for the centerpieces should be here by Friday. There will be enough to cover the extra tables,” she added before the mayor could ask.

  “Actually, if you could drop this off at Marissa Thomas’s before Friday, I would appreciate it,” Mayor Gomez said. “It’s a list of the ornamental flowers we’ll be needing.”

  Ember couldn’t stop herself from cringing away from the sheet of paper. She’d been to Marissa’s house once before, but it hadn’t been a very friendly encounter. She preferred to avoid the crotchety lady if possible. She was surprised Marissa was even involved in the function. “Why are you giving her a flower list?”

  “Marissa isn’t a member of the Ladies of Sanctuary,” Becky explained. “And even though she’s never gone to one of the Christmas socials, she’s donated flowers for the past…what? Twenty years, at least.”

  “Marissa has a massive greenhouse,” Mel piped up. “I’ve heard it’s very impressive.”

  “Indeed, it is,” Mayor Gomez confirmed. “I figured since you two are practically neighbors, it wouldn’t be too much trouble to get it to her. She’s more of a help than you’d imagine and volunteers for various city departments.”

  “Can’t you email it?” Ember pressed.

  Mel guffawed. “Marissa? Email? Nope. You saw the old paper filing system, Ember. The woman refuses to move into the twenty-first century. I’m sure
she doesn’t even have a cell phone.”

  Ember reached across the table and took the folded sheet of paper. “I’d be happy to stop by on my way home. That’s very gracious of her. Anyway, I wanted to thank her and let her know that the cat she brought in is doing okay, so this gives me an excuse.”

  “The cat,” Mayor Gomez said slowly. “You’re talking about Delilah Huntsman’s cat, right? How are you involved?”

  Ember tried not to react to the other woman’s tone. The two of them had butted heads more than once over the past six months regarding other “town scandals.”

  “It’s simple. A sick cat was brought to me. I cared for it and returned it to her owner.”

  “How is Delilah holding up?” Becky asked. “I haven’t heard anything more about it since we had dinner.”

  The mayor shifted in her seat. “I should think she’s feeling rather nervous, given the date of the…um, incident.”

  Ember looked evenly at the mayor. She’d figured it out. Of course she would. She was the one who took the medical records request from Delilah, which included the date of his death. Elly Gomez might be a gossip, but she was a smart woman. She’d made the connection.

  “What do you mean? What about the date?” Becky was stirring the last of the mashed potatoes around on her plate.

  “December fifteenth,” the mayor said to her friend with flair, as if revealing something magical. “Exactly seventeen years from the day her own husband died.”

  Becky’s hand froze with the potatoes halfway to her mouth. Blinking rapidly, she stared at the fork and didn’t react when the glob of spuds and gravy fell to her plate.

  Ember saw the color drain from her aunt’s face. Her fork hit the plate with a clatter, and Becky pushed her chair back, standing so fast that she almost knocked it over.

  “I, um, I just remembered something I have to do,” Becky stammered. Grabbing blindly at her coat, she spun on her heel.

  “Becky!” Ember called, but her aunt ignored her.

  As she watched Becky’s hasty retreat, her growing sense of unease exploded into a clawing premonition of a looming darkness.

  NINE

  Ember flipped the open sign to closed, pulled the door shut behind her, and patted her thigh. “Come on, Daenerys! Race you to the truck.”

  She’d spent an hour earlier in the day shoveling the length of sidewalk in front of the clinic, but it was covered again in a good three inches of snow. Daenerys pranced through it like a deer and snapped at the fat flakes that were falling.

  Laughing at her dog's antics, Ember gave a little start when her phone buzzed in her back pocket, signaling a text message. Hopefully, it was her Aunt Becky. Ember had messaged her that afternoon for the third time that day, and she was still waiting for a response. Becky had successfully avoided her in the past twenty-four hours, other than assuring her last night that she was okay, followed by a made-up excuse for her hasty retreat. But Ember didn’t believe the upset-stomach story. The expression on her aunt’s face had nothing to do with what she’d eaten.

  “Up, Daenerys! Let’s go home.”

  Ember opened the door to the truck she lovingly called Rust Bucket and patted at the seat. She wanted her dog safely tucked away inside before getting distracted by answering the text. With her luck, if she didn’t, it would be one of the few times the labradoodle took off after something as soon as she looked away.

  Sanctuary was small, and there wasn’t much traffic on the narrow street since the weather had worsened, but Ember was feeling antsy. She hadn’t gotten any further confirmation that day from the Great Pines shelter about more missing animals, but she wasn’t about to let Daenerys out of her sight.

  Daenerys plopped her rear-end down in the snow and looked up at Ember. Shifting as she continued to wag her tail, leaving a small tail-angel in the snow, the dog whined.

  “Seriously?” Ember implored. “You’ve somehow lost the ability to jump up there?”

  Daenerys whined again before snapping at a particularly plump snowflake.

  Ember sighed and then squatted down. Lifting the fifty-plus-pound dog on the slippery surface was no small feat. But she knew Daenerys was a better judge of her own abilities in the snow. If Ember insisted she jump and Daenerys ended up hurting herself in a failed attempt, she’d never forgive herself.

  “Harrumph!” Ember grunted with the effort, but after two starts and almost toppling backward, she managed to get the labradoodle in the truck.

  After looking around to see if anyone was laughing at her, Ember wiped at her running nose and tugged her stocking cap down tighter onto her head. She couldn’t wait to get home and start a fire.

  Climbing in after the dog, she started the truck to get the heater going and then pulled out her phone.

  “Oh.” Her small gasp of displeasure was enough to make Daenerys tilt her head sideways in a questioning gesture. “It wasn’t Becky,” she explained, holding the glowing phone up. It was the first time she’d been disappointed to get a text from Nathan.

  I’m just leaving the clinic now, she tapped out in response to his question as to whether or not she had closed up shop yet. She hoped it meant he might actually be done with his workday and could stop by for a visit. They still had their date for Friday, the next night, but she wouldn’t mind seeing him sooner.

  Lucky you. I’m stuck at the Ranger Station until who-knows-when. The blast placement today for the avalanche control was off, so we have to organize a second attempt tomorrow.

  Her hopes dashed, Ember realized she should have known better. Nathan wasn’t much for texting. If he’d been done working, he would have called her. After a couple of more quick exchanges, he confirmed the dinner date, and they said goodnight.

  Lips pursed in a pout, Ember eyed the glowing sign for Nature’s Brew. It was so close, and a pumpkin spice latte sounded incredibly good. Although it was almost six at night, the coffeehouse stayed open until seven during the busy holiday time. Mel went straight from the clinic to the coffeehouse to work the final two hours of the day in order to give the owner a break.

  “You must resist,” Ember said aloud as she put the truck into gear. Pulling onto the street, she forced herself to drive straight as the sign passed by on her left. “Resistance to the spice is not futile!”

  Daenerys barked.

  “I already had a twenty-ounce triple shot today.”

  Daenerys pawed at her arm.

  “And two sixteen-ounce pumpkin spice lattes yesterday. Two! Have you and Mel conspired against me?” Ember questioned her dog.

  When Daenerys only stared at her, a goofy doggy grin on her face, Ember smiled back in response. “I’m on to you guys. I saw her slipping that giant-sized dog bone to you earlier.”

  Daenerys drooled and then lay down, resting her head regally on crossed paws.

  The road darkened as Ember turned off Main Street and then onto Lakefront after two more blocks. But unlike Friday night, she went left, toward home instead of Crystal Haven. She couldn’t help but glance in that direction and wonder what was happening there. Ember hadn’t spoken with Delilah since Sunday. She didn’t have an excuse to since the test on the berries hadn’t returned yet. She’d expected the results by now but was at the mercy of the backlogged lab.

  “Tomorrow,” Ember muttered. “Hopefully, I’ll have it by then, and I can call or go visit during my lunch. I won’t have time after work―oh!”

  Interrupting her own thoughts, Ember hit the brake pedal but stopped herself from doing it too quickly. It wouldn’t take much to force herself into a slide. “We need to stop at Marissa’s,” she said to Daenerys, who had risen to see what the sudden change in speed was all about.

  Mayor Gomez had left clear orders for Ember to deliver the flower list by Friday, and it was already Thursday night. She didn’t want to leave any errands until the next day since she planned on being home as soon as possible for her date with Nathan.

  The long private driveway to Marissa’s house was revea
led in the headlights, and Ember expertly maneuvered her truck onto the narrow lane. Soon, the white two-story country house came into view, much as Ember remembered it. She wasn’t surprised that the driveway was freshly plowed. Marissa seemed to place a lot of emphasis on keeping the grounds of the property up and paid a local neighbor boy to do it.

  Hers was the first house on that side of the lake, with only one other between it and Ember’s. They all had a minimum of twenty acre lots and backed up to a steeply forested mountain terrain. Ember didn’t pay too much attention to details the one other time she’d been there earlier that summer, except that the interior was an odd mix of old and new. Now, she studied the dim glow behind drawn curtains and briefly toyed with the idea of leaving the paper in the mailbox she’d passed on the way in.

  Shaking her head at her own cowardice, Ember sat up straight before snatching the paper from where she’d stowed it in the glovebox. “Stay, Daenerys. I promise to be right back.” Leaving the dog in the car would give her the perfect excuse to keep the visit short.

  Stepping out into the wintry night, Ember was overcome by the absolute stillness that can only be obtained by a thick blanket of snow. Closing her eyes, she breathed it in, but then her eyes snapped open at an unexpected sound.

  Was that singing?

  Surprised, Ember turned away from the front porch and took a few tentative steps toward the side yard. Yes. It was coming from behind the house. A clear trail led the way, and she found herself facing an old dilapidated barn to her left and a huge greenhouse to her right. She faced the glass structure, which glowed a warm yellow. A sweet, melodic woman’s voice wafted through the air, and Ember’s breath caught as she recognized it.

  Feeling all the more an intruder, she cleared her throat loudly before calling out, “Hello? Marissa, are you home?”

  The singing stopped abruptly, and there was a clanging sound from within the greenhouse. Ember could only see shadows on the other side of the heavily tinted glass, but there was definite movement.

 

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