Beside me, Adam jiggled his foot. He didn’t care for dishing on people who weren’t present to defend themselves.
“She seemed sweet enough to me,” I responded. “Did you know Jason wanted to get a kitten for Ivanna as a wedding gift? Melody said he was fascinated with our Maus.”
“I sure love the one you gave Elvis,” Amy gushed. “She’s so adorable. And he said I could name it!”
Underneath Amy’s enthusiasm I thought I heard a discouraging word from Ruby who spoke at the same time.
“What was that, Ruby?” I asked.
“Ivanna was allergic to animal dander,” Ruby said. “She hated dogs beyond belief…”
Addy leaned forward.
I understood Ruby’s wounded tone since she and Boyd kept a yappy little chow mix.
“But she was actually scared of cats,” Ruby said and laughed with her mean girl tone. “I mean, seriously. Who’s afraid of a cat?”
“It’s actually more common than most people realize,” Addy said. “There are so many terms for cat phobias it’s ridiculous.”
“Like felinophobia?” Amy asked with a grin.
“Yes, that’s one,” Addy said.
“Really? I thought I just made that up.”
“Gato is Spanish for cat,” Elvis added his nickel. “Don’t tell me. Gatophobia?”
Addy chuckled. “Yep. I’ve seen that in print. The Greek versions are Ailurophobia, sometimes written elurophobia, or Galeophobia, Greek for cat and irrational fear, or phobia.”
I let the conversation devolve into stories about fear of animals, allergies, training pets. This was a social gathering. But I needed to steer the talk back to the paper factory and Addy’s discovery. I wanted to connect dots between the current set of personalities—namely, the Clarks who loved cats and maybe had a less desirable personality side, and Mrs. Pressman who definitely had a less desirable personality and had pet issues. I thought of Four scratching Melody Clark and wondered how he’d felt threatened. Anyway, once we had all the suspects, those who had access to the means of murder, we’d move one step closer to opportunity. I continued trying to force Jason Clark as my prime suspect into the puzzle, but the lack of evidence kept me from fitting his piece into the picture.
I still wasn’t clear on motive for killing Ivanna. Who benefitted from her death? Obviously, Stanley, for now. At least until the court ruled on the contested will.
And whether Ruby realized it or not, she had set herself up as a suspect by offering the prime motive of potentially losing her life savings to a business venture that might be shut down. I hadn’t invited her tonight out of pity or entrapment, simply to include her input in…public safety. She had an inside scoop into Ivanna’s financial state and her business plans. I wasn’t sure I liked Ruby as a friend yet.
I sniffed something between her and Stanley and, as God is my witness, anything that would get Stanley back on track as a contributing model citizen and away from turning up like a bad penny every time I turned around, I would fully support. Plus, someone was sending her threatening messages. The “give up now” ones were hard to figure out. Give up what? Fit’r U? Working for her aunt? Or as a waitress? Or at the radio station? Ruby had no clue to give the police. She had no idea if the texts were simple jokes, harassment, or real threats. She had been planning to quit waitressing but was waiting to learn if she had to give up Fit’r U, where she had taken over management. So far, Tiny was indulging her.
Adam stayed mostly quiet during the pet conversation, only throwing in a comment about Isis. We hadn’t worked out appropriate spay or neuter options for when we would be living all together so when the topic came up, he elicited advice.
“Both of your cats are purebreds,” Addy said. “Even though Memnet is on the older side, he’s got good years left. And Isis has proven to be a good mother.”
Age again. Too close to home. Definitely time to shift gears. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, loud enough to make Mom flinch. “Back to…” I slid a sideways glance at Adam and mentally shrugged. “Tonight’s purpose. What I really want to talk about is cyanide. If the police don’t know where Ivanna got into it, doesn’t that pose a public health issue? How can we protect ourselves? Where else is cyanide found?”
Adam sighed impatiently and jiggled his foot again.
“That’s a good point,” Virgil said. A little smile played about his lips. “In nature cyanide is present in the seeds and pits of many fruits. Apple seeds are a well-known source.”
“Oh, but Ivanna would have had to ingest at least two hundred milligrams of ground seeds all at once to receive a lethal dose,” Mom said. “The human body is pretty efficient in dealing with small amounts of toxic substances, like eating an apple core with the seeds or accidentally swallowing a few cherry pits.”
“Excuse me,” Ruby said. “But how does cy-cynide? Cyanide? How does it work?” She had half-raised her hand as if she’d been in school and lowered it. “I mean, did she suffer?”
Mom and Elvis shared measured looks.
She nodded, a teacher passing the mantle to her student.
“Cyanide works by disrupting the cell’s ability to use oxygen,” Elvis said. “In effect, a victim’s cells starve and die. Death is quick.”
“That’s why her mouth was blueish,” I said. “Probably her fingers, too, but I didn’t get a good look as I didn’t want to touch anything.” I shivered. “And she wore nail polish.”
“She liked to match everything,” Ruby said. “I’m learning more biology stuff for the exercise business. I feel smarter when I can throw in a few facts during class.”
Elvis grinned. “Yeah.” He winked at Mom. Then he faced Amy who offered a beatific glow. He held up her left hand. “I—we have an announcement and another answer for you.”
Amy blushed. “I said yes.”
I’d noticed the beautiful ring earlier but kept quiet. Now I leapt up and rushed them for a hug. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”
Everyone stood and milled, shaking hands, hugging, laughing. Poison slid off my radar though I wondered what Elvis meant by “another answer.”
“At the end of summer,” Amy told Ruby and Addy.
I realized I missed the question but assumed they were talking wedding dates. “This year?”
“There’s no reason to wait,” Amy replied.
Elvis wrapped his arm about her waist. “I don’t believe in long engagements.”
“I’ve seen the amount of money people want to spend on weddings…oops.” Amy made a face. “Sorry…I mean, my business depends on that.”
“We understand,” Mom said.
“It’s just that we can celebrate our marriage with our friends and cake and still have fun,” Amy said.
“You don’t need to defend yourselves,” I told Amy. “I agree that weddings can get out of hand and holding a ceremony is less than an excuse to compete for the most outlandish party.”
Elvis bussed Amy’s cheek. “It’s a good thing we’re not Indian. My army buddy, Arjun, told me about his sister’s wedding back in their country. Their folks mortgaged their house. They think dropping less than a hundred grand is bad form.”
I swallowed. “Wow.” I already felt badly about the cost of Adam’s and my wedding, most of which went for a meal and music.
Mom’s eyes twinkled. “For my only child. I want to share my joy with everyone I know over your good marriage. Your father and I started a special bank account. He’d be so happy for you both. I want to use that money for a party! But I would never think less of anyone who wasn’t blessed with the same means or judge future happiness based on the fanciness of the wedding.”
She squeezed Adam’s hand and I blinked away threatening tears of pride and happiness. “Cultures are different. There aren’t right or wrong customs. Not really. Unless they demand more than we can repay. I’d never be happy knowing you mortgaged your house just to have a party.”
But that got me thinking again about the Clark
s and the Pressmans. Had they disagreed about the wedding? About costs? Both Jason and Ivanna were only children of single mothers…like me. I raised my face to meet Virg’s contemplative expression. Melody Clark was dainty and dignified, daughter of old money, I’d learned. Doralynn Pressman was loud, overbearing, and a social climber, ex-wife of a used car salesman. Didn’t they want their children to be happy? And Jason and Ivanna had been happy, hadn’t they? Why would a groom murder a bride before a wedding? A crime of passion, perhaps…he learned something about her. I wanted a great big sheet of paper and colored markers to plot out the suspects, but a glance at Adam reminded me that Find the Murderer was not his favorite party game.
Virgil pulled Mom beside him on the sofa. “I’d like to hear what our friend Elvis has to share about the poison.”
As we went about rearranging ourselves, Adam whispered to me. “Do we need to call Officer Ripple yet? I recognize that expression on your face.”
I raised my most innocent eyes to his.
He smirked in return. “You’re trying to figure out the whys to fit your chief suspect.” At my raised brow he said, “Trust your instinct as well as your practical side.”
I opened my mouth to ask him to clarify when he glanced over my head at Elvis. I turned as well.
“Yes, Wyler’s,” Elvis was saying. He had Amy’s left hand in both of his. “I wanted a special, unique design for this precious woman.”
Amy’s cheeks were still pink from her earlier flush.
I worried about their deepening hue.
“Todd Wyler helped me design this…”
The ring gracing Amy’s finger was gold, an open rose with a beautiful rosy diamond flashing in the center of it. The rose melded to the band with leaves that flowed on either side. A diamond chip set into the leaf was supposed to be a dewdrop. If that was my ring, the chip would take one look at me and get lost, quick. I glanced at the lovely double diamond ring in a solid setting Adam gave me last Christmas and appreciated him all over again.
“…friend of Jason Clark,” Elvis said. I realized I’d better pay attention. “He really knows his stuff. We were talking about gold plating—electroplating—gold on to brass here…” he twisted Amy’s hand and ring, “so the leaves on the band would have this two-toned effect.”
It was beautiful. I’d wondered how they made that work.
“It’s hard to get gold to adhere to another metal like this. A solution is needed before electric current can make the bond. Guess what’s used to make the solution?”
Horror rippled across Amy’s delicate features inside the blonde frame of her hair and she stuck out her hand as if the ring burned.
Elvis enclosed it within his fist, the reddish hair on the back of his pale forearm outlining the muscles to contrast with Amy’s fragility. “There’s no trace of poison now,” he assured her. “It’s just a process.”
“That only proves cyanide is used for legitimate purposes,” Virgil said.
“But it’s available in the community,” Mom replied.
Elvis let go of Amy’s hand and stood to pace. “He keeps it locked up and explained about the disposal process.”
“It’s hazardous industrial waste,” Adam said.
I frowned at him. “You knew lethal chemicals were all over the city?”
“There are precautions in place, Ivy, just as in any other community,” he replied.
I huffed. “I didn’t realize there were so many dangers around every corner. What about all the chemicals in pesticides? Like those Doralynn wants to use at Amy’s event venue?”
“Professionals wouldn’t mishandle them,” Elvis said. “They’d take precautions, especially in public areas.” He squeezed Amy’s shoulders.
She pitched a nervous, lip-biting expression at him.
“Anyone can get killed any time,” Ruby said. “A customer on a bike at Fit’r U had a heart attack last week.” She put her hand over her mouth. “At least, he felt dizzy and I told him to get his doctor to check him out before he could come back.”
The whole town would have heard about an ambulance call. I was still indignant about hazardous waste.
Isis wandered into the room under the low murmur of conversation and sniffed around Addy’s ankles.
Even the flu killed. There was a connection between Jason, his friend, the jeweler, and the toxin that killed Jason’s fiancée. I just had to find it. Had her ring done her in? But why then and not when she first got it?
Amy had relaxed but kept peeking at her hand. The ring was so pretty. Solid, but dainty like her. I hoped the idea of what it meant wasn’t ruined for her now. Sometimes knowing too much about a process put a damper on the outcome. Like making paper. Speaking of which…
“Hey, everybody!” I called. “I just realized we never told you what we, well, Addy, learned at the paper factory. Go on, Addy.”
She spoke reluctantly. “During a washing process of the pulp, to prepare it for coloring…well, they use chemicals.”
“Let me guess,” Mom said. “Cyanide?”
19
When nearly everyone but Mom had left my house after our “Neighborhood Safety” meeting, I walked Adam out to his car. “But don’t you see, Adam? Everything points to Jason Clark.”
He squeezed my shoulders and looked heavenward at the sea of stars. “There may be a number of circumstances which seem incriminating…” He paused at my snort. “You seem to be prejudicial, Ivy.”
I didn’t like hearing him say so, but he was right. “I just don’t like how he seems…not sad. As though he’s not grieving, or he got over her in a hurry.” The gruffness in my tone was unnaturally harsh in the velvety evening. Peonies had bloomed in the neighbor’s yard and their fragrance accused me of ingratitude.
In Adam’s silence I realized I had no business judging anyone’s grief process. I stepped away from him and rubbed my arms though the temperature was still in the low seventies. “I didn’t even know her. I don’t understand why I should be so invested.”
Adam folded his arms and leaned against his truck, giving me time and space to mull.
“Besides that, I’m the one who found her. We had a lot in common,” I said, “although I realize we weren’t much alike. I think maybe because I believe in Apple Grove. This is home and I don’t want Donald’s dream of rebuilding the town to die when things are slowly looking up.”
“We won’t let it.” Adam kicked at a pebble on the driveway and straightened. “You are a loving, generous woman. You care about people. That’s why you’re invested. We’ll get to the bottom of this terrible crime. The person or persons responsible will be caught. We won’t let them hurt anyone else.”
“We’re close, Adam. I sense it. There’s a connection between Ruby and the messages she’s getting—”
“What? Wait a minute. I missed something. What messages?”
I dipped my face, so my hair fell along my cheek. “Right. Um…apparently someone is trying to harass Ruby and make her give up Fit’r U. At least, I think that’s what they mean.”
“And you discovered this how?” Adam approached me, hands posed as though wanting to throttle me.
I took another step back…onto my lawn.
“Is that why she was here tonight?” He reached me and touched my shoulders. “I can’t leave you alone for a day, can I?”
“I like it better when we’re together. But it’s all right when we have to spend some time away from each other, too. It’s not always good to make marriage a three-legged race.”
“Don’t try and change the subject. Ruby?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I smacked my fist into my palm. “She doesn’t understand who would want the business or why, and the police can’t figure out who’s sending the messages.”
“I find it hard to believe she willingly asked for your help with this,” Adam said dryly.
“Yeah, so we’re not like best friends, but tech communication is my area of expertise.” I decided to avoid mention
of my accidental police contact with Officer Dow when I’d been caught chasing Ruby. “Roberta and I were meeting about the flowers. For the wedding.” He cocked his head but didn’t interrupt me. “Ruby was working in the back and she showed me this text message. She said she’d gotten a few. They made her nervous, but she didn’t understand why someone wanted her to give up—what the message didn’t specify.” I didn’t get it, either. Sending a message telling Ruby she was a loser was just immature and mean. But what about giving up Fit’r U? Would that person try to vandalize the place or worse?
“Ivy?”
I shook my head. “Sorry…bad habit.”
Adam yawned. “My brain is going fuzzy. Everything good with the wedding flowers?”
“Oh, yeah.” I turned him toward the truck and opened the door for him. “You’ve had such a long day, my love. Let’s talk later.”
He didn’t protest. He gave me a sloppy kiss and drove off.
I returned to my kitchen to see Mom at the sink, washing up cups and plates. I hugged her from the side and laid my head on her shoulder. “I love you,” I said with a sigh.
“You love me more now because I’m cleaning up.” She rinsed a chunky brown mug with a white outline of a pueblo village we’d visited during a high school summer vacation. The other side had the state flag of New Mexico.
“It’s no secret I’m not a domestic goddess.” I picked up the mug to dry it. “You gave me the world. Taught me how to gather facts, analyze situations and learn from the results.” I held out the mug. “Like this trip. You had me calculate the difference between the cost of driving vs. airfare and figure out what we could see in a week.”
Mom’s eyes crinkled around the corners with her gentle smile. “And what did you learn?”
I set the mug in the cupboard. “That I didn’t know as much as I thought I did. I forgot we wouldn’t have a car to drive ourselves around if we flew and to add that to the cost, so driving ourselves would have been cheaper. And I didn’t take into account that some of the museums and other sites wouldn’t be open on the days or at the times I thought we could visit.”
Mom dried her hands. “Those were things that happened. What did you learn?”
Meow Matrimony Page 18