by Ellery Adams
Chapter 10
All things are poisons, for there is nothing without poisonous qualities. It is only the dose which makes a thing poison.
—Paracelsus
Nora didn’t have much time to obsess over Jedediah’s remark about poison.
Miracle Books was a zoo for the rest of the day, and Nora did her best to serve customers coffee, match them with the right books, and ring up their purchases.
She finally caught a break around five. By that point, her foot was throbbing and she was incredibly hungry. With no customers in the shop, she decided to run to the back for a cup of decaf and a snack.
No sooner had she filled her mug than the sleigh bells clanged.
“Damn it,” Nora whispered tiredly. She knew she should be grateful for a stuffed cash register and gaps on the shelves. In addition to books, she’d sold dozens of shelf enhancers, including a tin toy with a singing bird in a cage, a vintage bowling pin, a framed silhouette of a girl and her kitten, an antique game board, a stoneware crock, a swan decoy, a leather globe, and an Art Nouveau inkwell featuring a reclining woman.
Thinking that she’d like to adopt the same posture as the inkwell lady right about now, Nora took a sip of her coffee.
“Where are you?” Hester shouted from the front of the store.
Nora let out a sigh of relief. She could sit down, after all. “In our usual spot,” she called back.
Hester and June appeared at the circle of chairs.
“You look done in,” June said. “Long day?”
“I’ve been slammed. Having the pools closed was great for business, but not so great for my foot.” Though Nora hated to admit this weakness, she had to rest her injured ankle.
June frowned in concern. “I’ll get ice. Hester, give that girl some food. I bet she hasn’t eaten since breakfast.”
Hester produced a bakery box from the bag she’d set down on the coffee table. After handing Nora a throw pillow, she patted the table. “Put your foot up first.”
Nora complied and June returned from the ticket office with the ice pack. “Did you make a date with Gorgeous Jed?”
“Yes.” Nora accepted the bakery box from Hester. “But I’ve already screwed things up with him. He stopped by the shop this morning and I didn’t handle things well. I’m not Estella.”
June squeezed Nora’s shoulder. “Eat now. Hester and I will share our stories and you can tell us what happened with Jed when we’re done.”
Nora was too hungry to protest. She opened the box lid and a rush of tantalizing aromas escaped from within. The scents of melted cheese, buttery dough, and cooked ham caused Nora’s stomach to gurgle, and when she scooped up the croissant resting on a sheet of wax paper, she found that it was still warm.
After biting into the stuffed pastry, she had to suppress a moan. The Gruyère cheese that had escaped from the hole at one end of the croissant had been baked a golden brown and broke off in Nora’s mouth. It wasn’t ham, but prosciutto, which shared the pastry’s interior pocket with the cheese, and the flavor combination was heavenly. Nora could have easily devoured a second.
“You were hungry,” Hester said. She and June had barely had the chance to serve themselves coffee before Nora was finished eating.
“You’re an amazing baker,” Nora said, wiping her hands on a napkin.
Hester pushed the bag toward June. “The other box is for you. I’ve been thinking about you since you told us your story at the Pink Lady. This is your comfort scone. You should eat it now, even if you don’t feel like it. Trust me.”
Though June looked nervous, she said, “That’s what we’re trying to do, right? Trying to trust.” She steeled herself, as if she were about to stick her hand inside a box containing a puff adder, instead of a pastry. “Trust and try.”
“Trust and try,” Hester repeated.
The box lid was barely open before June’s eyes filled with tears. “I smell apples. Reminds me of the times I used to take my son apple picking upstate. The trees always put on their best show. We’d go on hayrides, drink hot cider, and buy maple syrup. Weeks later, when that first dark, dreary winter day came, I’d make apple-cinnamon pancakes and we’d use the syrup and remember our golden, fall day.” She broke off a piece of scone and, her gaze watery and distant, popped it into her mouth. “It’s all in here. The apples. The maple. The cinnamon. Even the autumn sunshine.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I can smell the hay. I remember the time Tyson had a piece stuck in his hair. He pulled it out and put it between his teeth and did this crazy Southern accent. Little did he know, his mama would be living in the South one day—ha!”
It was incredible to see how deeply June had become immersed in her memory. Nora turned from her to look at Hester. Her baker friend had her hands clasped over her heart and was watching June with a mixture of anticipation and desperate hope. Nora realized that Hester gave away a tiny part of herself with every comfort scone. She desperately wanted each scone to live up to its name.
Another tear slipped down June’s cheek, but she didn’t appear to notice. “I just want to know that he’s happy. All I’ve ever wanted was for him to have a good life.”
“If the rest of his childhood was anything like that memory, your son was a lucky boy,” Hester said.
June stared at Hester. Her eyes slowly regained focus. “Yes. He had a good childhood. I was a good mother.”
“You were a good mother,” Hester repeated. “Finish your scone.”
“I think I will.”
June relished her scone. Every bite seemed to remind her of happy moments she’d shared with her son and of how she’d done a fine job raising him. She didn’t express this in words, but her tears dried and there was a new lightness about her—a sense of letting go. Though Nora knew it was only the beginning of time’s healing process, it was a very significant beginning. The inability to forgive oneself could be an enormous obstacle for people suffering from an emotional wound. Nora knew this well. And she now knew that June would be receptive to the books Nora had selected for her.
“Thank you, Hester,” June said after every crumb of her comfort scone had been devoured. She drank some coffee and set the bakery box aside. “It feels wrong to indulge on treats and coffee, with my backside resting on a soft chair when I know Estella is in utter misery, so let’s get to it.”
“Yes,” Nora agreed. “For starters, I’d like to know why the sheriff was so quick to call Fenton’s death a murder. Neil Parrish was pushed in front of a goddamn train, but his death was viewed as suspicious until later declared a suicide.”
June produced one of her characteristic grunts. “Clearly, Sheriff Toad doesn’t know his ass from his elbow. That fact aside, I got a whole plateful of tidbits from Bob. He’s not only in love with Estella, but he’s a keen listener and observer. Because of that, I decided to be straight with him. I told him how the three of us planned to exonerate Estella.”
“Has she been officially charged?” Nora asked.
“No,” Hester said. “At least, not as of three o’clock. That’s when a pair of deputies came into the bakery for cookies and éclairs to take back to the station. Deputy Andrews—the one Nora loaned Ender’s Game to—may have a crush on me. He hung around at the counter after his buddy placed their order. I think he wanted to impress me by asking if I’d heard that there’d been a second violent death in Miracle Springs, so I played the wide-eyed girl and begged him to tell me everything.”
June reached across the coffee table and gave Hester a playful punch in the arm. “Look at you! And?”
“He wasted most of that time talking up his part in the investigation,” Hester said. “Luckily, it was when the other deputy, Lloyd, left to use the restroom that Andrews leaned over the counter and whispered that without his sharp eyes, the sheriff wouldn’t have an evidence bag with what was probably the murder weapon. Andrews spotted it under one of the lounge chairs.”
Nora forgot about the pain in her foot. She jerked upright, ca
using the ice pack to slide to the floor. “Which was?”
“A bottle of pills,” Hester said. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what the pills were, because Andrews had to leave. Lloyd told him that the sheriff was ready for them to process Fenton Greer’s phone. After grabbing the box of cookies, Lloyd started walking away. When he thought he was out of earshot, he made a lewd tongue gesture and said that he couldn’t wait to see if all the rumors about Estella were true.” Hester shook her head in disgust. “Asshat. I wanted to bash him in the face with a frying pan. At least none of them seem to have a clue about the Secret, Book, and Scone Society.”
“If there are photos of Estella on Fenton’s phone, they’ll have a time stamp,” Nora said. Speaking Estella’s name aloud filled her with guilt. “Have either of you tried to get in to see her? I haven’t. I admit that Miracle Books was in charge of my life today.”
“You could have waited in the station lobby from dawn ’til dusk and it wouldn’t have made a difference,” June said. “They weren’t going to let Estella have visitors. She’s being questioned. That’s what I was told when I called. And I’ve called six times. On the plus side, Bob is with us. And by that I mean that he’ll do anything to help Estella.”
Nora wasn’t sure how she felt about Bob. “I know you like the guy, but is that enough to go on? I don’t know that we can trust him.”
“He’s already proven himself,” June said. “Bob found out what kind of pills Estella supposedly mixed into Fenton’s drink.”
Now it was Hester’s turn to sit on the edge of her chair. “Don’t hold out on us,” she scolded.
June was struggling to pull a piece of paper out of her handbag, but it was caught on the point of a sharp needle.
“Is that a weapon?” Nora asked in complete seriousness.
June pushed the needle deeper into her bag. “No, those are for knitting. It’s how I keep my hands occupied while I’m watching TV at night, which is a healthier habit than shoving food into my mouth.” She unfolded the paper. “What Deputy Andrews found at the scene is medicine. Not poison. But, of course, any medicine can become poison if you ingest too much.”
“Are you familiar with this medicine?” Nora asked. “From your tenure as a caregiver?”
June nodded. “I sure am. It’s nothing fancy. Just potassium pills. Potassium chloride, to be specific.”
“You can overdose on that?” Hester asked. “Aren’t bananas loaded with potassium?”
“Yes, but you can’t die from an overdose of bananas,” June answered tersely. “We need to take a step back and first ask why Greer was taking these meds. Usually, people can get the potassium they need from food. When you can’t, you have a condition called hypokalemia. During my time at Belle Shoal, I knew lots of patients taking potassium supplements. They all had other medical issues like kidney disease, hypertension, or complications stemming from diabetes. The medication they took to treat these issues either decreased their potassium levels or prohibited their bodies from absorbing potassium. Especially if they were on diuretics.”
“So they had to take an additional pill in order to continue treatment.” Nora rephrased June’s statement not only for her own benefit, but also for Hester’s.
“That’s right,” June said. “And you should have seen those pills.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Could choke a horse, they were so big. My poor patients. I’d have to coax those monsters down with milkshakes and smoothies.”
Nora scooped up her ice pack from the floor. “How would someone use those pills as a murder weapon? I’ve read enough mystery novels to know that food greatly reduces the efficacy of a drug.”
June nodded. “As soon as Bob told me about the pills, I thought the same thing. Another question came to me as well. If Greer had a prescription for potassium pills, would he be traveling with a full bottle or just a few pills?” She spread her hands, awaiting a reply.
“How can we know? But if Greer did have a full month’s supply, he would have taken at least two pills by now,” Hester mused aloud. “Leaving him with twenty-seven or -eight?”
Nora finished the rest of her coffee and examined her empty cup with a sense of despondence. Now that the pain in her ankle had subsided and there was food in her belly, it was getting increasingly harder to hold her fatigue at bay. “Unless Estella put a gun to his head, why would Greer swallow twenty-odd potassium pills?” she murmured tiredly. “Estella couldn’t prove that he tried to force himself on her while we listened from behind the towel stand. That’s why she decided not to march down to the sheriff’s department and show them her fresh bruises. She knew damn well that Fenton Greer would deny responsibility. She also knew the sheriff wouldn’t go after Greer. There’s no way our chauvinistic sheriff would choose a beautician with a rep for being a loose woman over an influential businessman.”
“Toad would probably tell Estella she had it coming and push her out the door. And we all know where he’d put his hand to push her,” Hester muttered angrily.
June was giving Nora a strange look. “What are you saying? Are you saying that when Estella told us she was going to use what Greer had done to her as leverage, she might have actually gone back to the lodge last night and tried to worm more information out of him? Or that she somehow fed him a bottle’s worth of potassium chloride?” She flicked her wrist in dismissal. “Estella’s no killer.”
“No,” Nora agreed. And to her relief, this felt true. “However, she doesn’t have many champions in Miracle Springs. Her clients appreciate her ability to make them look beautiful, but they’d hardly serve as character witnesses on her behalf. Most people would watch her ruination with glee.”
“Because they don’t know her!” Hester cried.
“She won’t let anyone see the real her,” Nora pointed out. “None of us have been willing to do that. We’ve become adept at hiding behind our armor. Until we found each other. I don’t know about you, but this is the first time in years I’ve opened up to anyone.”
June raised her coffee cup in a toast. “Better late than never.”
Several months ago, Nora had found a dilapidated cuckoo clock at the flea market. After haggling with the vendor until he was worn out, Nora walked away with the clock for twenty bucks. She’d carefully sanded the ornately carved wood, applied a few coats of stain, and hung her treasure in the bookstore.
Now the clock chimed six times and the blue cuckoo shot out of the snug compartment where he spent most of his time. He sang his merry song, capturing the attention of all three women, before retreating into his snug nest inside the wood.
Nora hated to break the spell of tranquility the little bird had cast, but she had no choice. “If we’re going to figure out what really happened to Fenton Greer, we need to speak with Estella, and we must be prepared to make enemies in this town,” she said. “Jedediah believes Greer was poisoned. At least, that’s how I interpreted his reference to poison and his guilty reaction for mentioning the word.” She described the exchange she and Jed had had earlier that day.
Hester grinned at Nora. “So he’s coming over for a date? Tonight?”
“And he’s bringing wine?” June added, wriggling her brows. “To drink under the stars?”
“Enough with the innuendoes,” Nora replied testily. “I know he’s good-looking. I know he’s a newcomer. But I’m not interested in novelties. I’m interested in novels.”
June gave Nora’s knee a pat. “Books make excellent escapes, honey, but they can’t massage your aching shoulders or whisper sexy words in your ear. Women think they want Mr. Darcy, but do we? Do we really want a man with a cravat and a top hat to take us to bed? No. We want a man who’s a mixed-up mess of Othello, Heathcliff, Atticus Finch, Chief Inspector John Luther, and a Greek god or two.”
“Don’t forget Sherlock Holmes, Edward Rochester, and Horatio Hornblower,” Hester added. “I like my Brits.”
“What? No James Bond?” Nora quipped, having enjoyed June’s speech immensely.
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br /> Hester shook her head. “He doesn’t treat women like a gentleman should.”
“Point taken,” June said solemnly. “Well, Nora? Which literary man lights your fire?”
Nora knew that June hadn’t meant any harm by her remark, but the pairing of man and fire took her to a dark place. “I’ll get back to you on that one. If I don’t go home and make myself presentable, I won’t get an iota of useful info out of Jed. Like I said before, I’m not Estella. I lack both her confidence and talent when it comes to getting men to do what I want. At this point, it’s going to take all of my energy just to stay awake.”
June grunted. “Honey, I was there when he helped you to the car. You’ll have no problem staying awake.”
* * *
June was right. By the time Nora saw Jed’s shadow stretching ahead of his body on her flagstone path, she was such a knot of nerves that she couldn’t imagine ever sleeping again.
Nora Pennington hadn’t invited a man to Caboose Cottage since she’d moved in. Not for a social call, that is. There’d been plumbers, electricians, masons, and painters. But a paramedic carrying a grocery bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other? Never. Nora was tempted to go inside and lock the door. After all, she’d sworn never to let a man get close to her again. And having a date was letting a man get close.
This isn’t a real date. This is you extracting information from someone who happens to be male, she told herself as Jed ascended the metal steps leading to her deck. The soft light from the Japanese lanterns lit his face and Nora caught a flash of white teeth and glittering eyes.
Smiling at Jed, Nora reminded herself that she needed to maintain a firm control over her emotions from this moment until Jed left.
That proved to be difficult.
Unlike most people, Jed didn’t fill silences with aimless chatter. He was clearly comfortable with silence, and when he first stood on her deck, he spent a long moment taking in the view before he looked at her. “You live in the coolest house I’ve ever seen,” he eventually said. “Do the trains wake you?”