Eggs Benedict Arnold

by Laura Childs

  “Want me to help?” called Toni, but Sam shook his head. “You stay with Suzanne. Holler if there’s a problem.”

  “I’m okay,” Suzanne said, glancing across at Nadine. Nadine, who seemed to have recovered some of her angry defiance and contempt, stared viciously at Suzanne while a nasty smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Nadine,” Toni told Suzanne. “That lady’s ka-pow crazy out of her mind.” She twirled an index finger near her head.

  Thirty seconds later Sam was back with napkin, silverware, and a small slice of cake on one of Petra’s floral china plates. “Petra’s grilling a steak for you. But have a few bites of this first.”

  Suzanne, who really hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, picked up her fork and stabbed a small piece of cake. She smiled a wan thank-you at Sam, put the fork to her mouth, and nibbled gently.

  That was when a tremendous pounding, like a herd of stampeding cattle, suddenly rocked the front porch of the Cackleberry Club. The door crashed open and there stood Sheriff Roy Doogie, looking wild-eyed and tremulous, his thin, gray hair almost standing on end.

  “Dear Lord,” said Toni, stumbling to her feet.

  Sheriff Roy Doogie gazed crazily about until his eyes fell upon Suzanne. He took one look at the fork in Suzanne’s hand and the cake with the missing bite and suddenly launched himself across the floor of the Cackleberry Club. Landing in front of Suzanne, he smacked hard at her arm, then grabbed her around the waist.

  Suzanne let out a terrified gasp as her fork and dish clattered noisily to the floor.

  Everyone else looked on in shock! Had Doogie suddenly lost his mind?

  Sam was the first to intercede. “Sheriff!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Be careful! What on earth .. . !”

  But Doogie was a man on a mission. Spinning Suzanne around, he flipped her forward and thumped a big paw hard against her back, causing her bite of cake to come flying from her mouth, almost as if she’d been burped!

  “Poison!” Doogie wheezed. “That cake’s poison!” He cradled Suzanne in his arms. “Help her, Doc! Help her!”

  Chapter thirty three

  Suzanne, shaking and shivering, couldn’t rinse her mouth enough. Over and over, she coughed, rinsed, spit, then repeated the process. Finally, she grabbed a saltshaker, spilled salt into a giant glass of warm water, rinsed thoroughly, then gargled.

  Petra stood behind Suzanne, tears streaming down her face. She’d thrown an Indian-patterned blanket around Suzanne’s shoulders and was gently patting her back. Doogie and Sam stood discreetly behind her, Sam giving a quick account of Dil’s role to a still-startled Doogie.

  Toni stalked from the kitchen out into the cafe, pounding her right fist into a cupped left hand, looking like she wanted to smack Nadine in the mouth. “Miserable piece of filth,” she muttered as she passed by Nadine. Kicking the back of Nadine’s chair, she threatened, “I oughta clock you a good one!” Then she scurried back into the kitchen.

  “What. . . ?” said Suzanne, still leaning over the sink. “What kind of poison was in the cake?” She took a sip of salt water, rinsed, and spit again. Finally she straightened up and turned to face Doogie and Sam.

  Doogie put his hands on his bulky hips and said, “Remember the ashes that were in that sink?”

  Suzanne just stared at him.

  “At Driesden and Draper?” prompted Doogie. “The day we found Ozzie?”

  Suzanne nodded and frowned. She did remember the little bit of charred ashes smeared in the bottom of the sink in Ozzie’s embalming room. But with Ozzie lying there dead, she hadn’t given them much more than a cursory inspection.

  “I just got a call from the state crime lab,” said Doogie. “And I mean—literally—I just took their call! When I pulled in here!” Doogie looked shaken and wobbly, like his ticker might not be faring so well. “The crime lab determined that the ashes contained small bits of hair and fingernails.”

  “Oh ... ick,” said Toni, making a face.

  “No wait,” said Doogie, holding up a hand. “The thing is, they belonged to Nadine’s husband.”

  “Dear Lord,” said Suzanne, suddenly catching on. “She was poisoning him?”

  Doogie gave a miserable nod. “Arsenic. That’s what killed poor Julian. Poison. Nadine had been slipping it into his food, slowly, over time, until she finally killed him.”

  “Killing him slowly,” murmured Suzanne.

  “She murdered her husband?” said Petra. “Dear Lord.”

  “It’s not unheard of,” said Doogie. He wiped a hand against his cheek. “When Ozzie was prepping Julian’s body, he must have noticed something funny. Had a suspicion about Nadine. That’s why he collected evidence—hair and fingernail samples to send to the lab.”

  “But Nadine got nervous,” said Suzanne. “Or maybe Ozzie even said something to her. So she killed Ozzie and then tried to destroy the samples.”

  Doogie nodded. “Until you came along and she slapped that chloroformed rag over your mouth.”

  “So . . . wait a minute,” said Petra. “Nadine killed Bo Becker, too?”

  “Holy cow,” said Toni. “The lady’s a regular black widow spider!”

  Doogie scratched his head. “This all came at me pretty fast, but that’s what it looks like. Probably because Bo worked so closely with Ozzie.”

  “And Bo might have been suspicious of Nadine,” said Suzanne. “He might have been watching her during her husband’s funeral or something tripped in his brain that she wasn’t the sweet little old lady she pretended to be.”

  “Nadine was smart as a cobra,” said Doogie. “She’s the one who probably sent Bo to that deserted cemetery. Then got the drop on him and strung him up.”

  “Almonds,” said Dr. Sam Hazelet, almost as if it were a non sequitur. “That’s the smell of arsenic.”

  “And quite lethal over time,” said Doogie.

  “Exactly,” said Sam.

  Doogie stared at Suzanne with compassion in his rheumy eyes. “And then she tried to poison you. When I burst in and saw the cagey look on her face—watching you eat—I figured she’d somehow slipped poison to you, too.”

  “With her almond cake,” said Suzanne in a hoarse voice. Suzanne held a clean terry-cloth towel to her mouth and blotted slowly. “I want to talk to her.”

  “Leave her alone,” said Petra. “Let the law deal with Nadine.” She put a hand on Suzanne’s shoulder. “And a higher power.” She paused. “There’s really nothing you can say to her.”

  “Oh yes, there is!” said Suzanne. Not only was she feeling decidedly stronger, her anger was building into a terrific head of steam.

  “Atta girl,” encouraged Toni. “Go out there and knock Nadine’s block off!”

  “No violence,” barked Doogie, spreading his arms wide. “Nobody’s gonna touch a hair on that murderous woman’s head. Nobody takes the law into their own hands in my county!”

  But like an avenging angel, Suzanne swept past Doogie and burst through the door into the cafe. “Nadine!” she shouted. Definitely had her energy back and her hackles up.

  Doogie was hot on Suzanne’s heels, with everybody else piling in right behind him.

  “I have a bone to pick with you!” cried Suzanne. Her blue eyes were frosted ice, her voice resonated with anger. She circled around Nadine, footsteps echoing sharply off the wooden floor of the Cackleberry Club.

  “Easy now!” called out Sam.

  “Be careful!” yelled a timorous Dil.

  Suzanne came to a halt in front of Nadine, who was still tied to the cane chair, her coat draped over her shoulders, her purple ribbon pinned to one lapel.

  “You are hereby disqualified from the Cackleberry Club cake-decorating contest,” said Suzanne, as Nadine stared mutely at her.

  A spatter of applause broke out behind her.

  “It was a lousy cake anyway!” yelled Toni.

  But Suzanne wasn’t finished. Like lightning, her hand suddenly shot o
ut toward Nadine.

  “Dear Lord!” gasped Petra. “She’s going to smack her!”

  Instead, Suzanne grasped Nadine’s purple ribbon and ripped it from her coat. “Your grand prize ribbon is hereby revoked!”

  “You go, girl,” chortled Toni.

  Suzanne rolled up the ribbon, slowly twining it around an index finger. Turning her back on the sullen Nadine, she walked across the Cackleberry Club and into Sam Hazelet’s open arms.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  Suzanne nodded. “I think so.”

  “So,” he said. “That optimistic, fearless thing you mentioned the other night. How’s that workin’ for you?”

  This time Suzanne managed a crooked grin. “I think ... pretty well.” She tilted her head back, hesitated for the briefest of moments, then kissed him full on the lips.

  “Now that,” exclaimed Toni, “really takes the cake!”