by Danger Cove
Abysmal emotional energy settled in the room heavier than a wet blanket. The food was good, though if I was being totally honest, Tara and Clara's food at the tavern was just as good. Maybe my taste buds favored meals made by friends? Or it was possible all the negativity of the morning erased my desire to try anything new. My poor stomach was used to microwave meals.
Once finished, Agnes smiled. "Thank you, chefs, for the meal. Jonathan, I'll give you an answer in the next twenty-four hours."
Jonathan nodded. "Thank you for your time and consideration."
Before the chef could question me, I interjected, "Tara, why don't you and Tanner head back to the tavern to start prepping? If that's okay, I'll stay to help clear the table."
Rico stood. "Agnes, don't you have some things to take care of at the house? I'll help clear the table as well."
Jonathan retreated to the kitchen, followed closely by Rico. I noticed he hadn't bothered to pick up even a glass or fork. Some help he was going to be.
Tanner kissed me on the cheek. "You sure you're okay here with those two?"
"I'll be fine." I returned his kiss, but instead of his cheek, I found those soft lips of his. Though the uncertainty of the future—of our future—remained, I was glad he'd be here full time in the area once he graduated. At least I hoped he would. He'd indicated he wanted to find a job nearby so he wouldn't be far from where he grew up. Between work at the tavern and schoolwork, the days he spent here on the weekends didn't offer much in the way of quality time together. "Ice cream at my place tonight?"
His smile melted me where I stood. "I'll bring chocolate sauce."
With that promise, he and Tara left. I started scraping and stacking dishes, anxious to get back to my restaurant. I didn't feel at home in Charlie's restaurant—never really had. And I knew there was little chance I'd feel at home in Jonathan's. If his job offer was genuine, I needed to let him down, but wanted to do it easy.
I quietly opened the door to the kitchen when I heard Rico's voice ringing out loud and clear. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but you're not getting one dime of Agnes's money, much less however many hundreds of thousands of dollars you're trying to charm her out of. Stay the hell away from my wife. Are we clear? You'll have to climb over my dead body to get even one penny."
Rico's threat was clear as crystal to me, and I was on the other side of the kitchen. After Clara's departure, Allyson's interruption, and now Rico's hostility, I decided I'd talk to Jonathan later. He was having a very bad day, and I didn't want to add to it. I placed the dishes on the counter and started to back out quietly when Jonathan replied.
"Threats are unnecessary. This is simply business. No need to make things personal, though I'm starting to understand how personal this might be for you."
I had no idea what that meant, but I understood that, personally, I needed to make my exit and leave them to their testosterone exchange. I'd just made it to my bike, parked safely on the other side of the lot, when Rico stormed out of the restaurant. The loose gravel in the parking lot spitted and sputtered a tsunami of debris in my direction as he peeled out and headed toward his side of town.
I'd almost made it back to the tavern when Tanner called me. "Are you stalking me?" I laughed as I answered the phone. "I'm almost there."
He chuckled. "If I were using the stalker app, I'd know that already."
The man had a point. He and I both had an app on our phones that allowed us to track each other via the GPS signal. It provided just the right combination of sweet and stalker to prevent things from being awkward. "Did you miss me?"
"Of course, but that's not why I called. I wanted you to know that your new gardener hasn't shown up for work yet. I'm retrieving some herbs the ladies need to start prep, but thought you should know. There are a few things we still need for today's menu though."
"You get employee of the month for sure."
"As long as the bonus is quality time with the boss, I'm good with that."
"I don't think Harvey would appreciate you getting quality time with Hope," I teased. "Especially not with them traversing the country together."
"Sassy, sassy girl. You know what I mean."
I laughed. "I do. Thanks for covering. I'll deal with him as soon as I get back. Text me the list, and I'll pick up what we need while I'm out."
I reversed direction and headed toward the farmers' market to pick up the items on the list. The extra pedaling gave me time to process everything I'd witnessed between Agnes, Rico, Allyson, and Jonathan. My curiosity kitties were clawing at me to call Bree, my friend who managed the Ocean View Bed & Breakfast, to see if Allyson was staying there. I'd love to know more about what had happened between her and Rico to cause such animosity. They obviously had history, and from their interaction, it didn't take being in tune with the universe to know it hadn't ended well.
I'd just parked my bike and caught my breath when my cell rang. I answered the call, "Hello?"
"Lilly! It's Agnes." She started coughing and wheezing. "I need you to come over. It's Rico. I think he's dead."
CHAPTER FOUR
Agnes's house was, of course, farther away than I wanted it to be. My legs were burning from the pedaling, and I swore to myself for the hundredth—okay thousandth—time that I would find a way to incorporate cardio into my routine. Sleep wasn't necessary, right?
I hoped Agnes had called for an ambulance. Heaven only knew why she'd called me. First aid was barely in my skill sets. If Rico was as serious as she claimed…
As soon as her house came into sight, I hopped off the bike and let it skid to the ground on its own. Hopefully, no damage would come to my sole mode of transportation. I banged on the front door, but no one answered. "Agnes? Agnes! Open the door."
Nothing. The house was eerily quiet. Both Agnes's and Rico's vehicles were in the drive. They had to be home. I ran around to the backyard, shimmying through a part of the privacy fence that had a broken slat. I was sure that was on Agnes's list of things to do with her millions of dollars. Ensuring she was well stocked with premium tequila had taken precedence though. At the rate she'd been imbibing, it would probably be a good use of her money to invest in the Tsunatka Tequila Company. At least then she'd simply be funneling her money from one hand to the other.
The back door was unlocked, so I pulled it open and darted inside. Immediately I could smell noxious fumes. They got stronger as I made my way from the kitchen to the dining room. Tears clouded my eyes, making it hard to see, and inhaling produced an ugly cough. I quickly returned to the part of the kitchen that housed the windows. With a surge of strength, I pried them open, enjoying the availability of some fresh air.
The clean oxygen renewed my resolve, and I headed further into the house to find Rico and Agnes. I'd been here a couple times before. The house was old, certainly not your modern open floor plan that homes are designed with these days. The kitchen had two doors. One led to the dining room, the other to the laundry room and storage area. The dining room was situated between the kitchen and formal living room. Off the dining room was the area where Agnes would spend most of her time. More of a den that housed a desk, recliner, television, and her cats.
After a few quick inhales of the air seeping in through the screen in the windows, I headed through the kitchen and into the dining room. Rico was lying on the other side of the large mahogany table, his perfectly combed dark hair matted near his temple with blood. Not good.
Agnes was closer to the entryway into the living room, cell phone in one hand and surrounded by shards of broken glass. Dear God, please don't let her be dead too. A low moan escaped her ruby red lips, snapping me out of this nightmare and into action. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I dialed 9-1-1—just in case Agnes hadn't—and relayed the situation. Confident help was on its way, I moved over to Agnes to help her to her feet. I cast a quick glance at Rico. No way could I move him by myself. Doing a quick mental calculation, I decided the back porch was closer. Once Agnes was
standing, I took her hand. "Help me get him out of here."
We each grabbed him under the arm at the shoulder and pulled. Thanks to a mighty infusion of adrenaline, my muscles took on superhero powers. Supergirl better look out. Who needed someone from Krypton when mild-mannered Lilly Waters—born in Las Vegas and raised in Woodstock, New York—was in the room?
A few minutes later, we'd managed to drag him outside and into breathable air. I assumed he was still breathing. Our immediate task done, Agnes dropped into one of the cushioned chairs on the porch.
I rushed to her side. "Are you alright? What happened? If this is a gas leak, we need to get further away from here now!"
Agnes coughed a few times before her gaze darted to Rico. "No gas leak. Oh God, this is all my fault."
"The paramedics are on their way. They will be able to help him far better than you or me."
Agnes went to Rico's side and dropped to her knees. She placed her fingers on his neck and then shook her head. "I've never done this before. I'm not sure if I'm feeling my pulse or his. My heart is racing so fast. Can you check, please?"
I bit my lip, unsure how to break the news to Agnes. "It wouldn't do any good."
"Oh no…do you think…do you know…is he…dead? Is that why you won't check? Oh good Lord."
Gah, this was hard. I grabbed her by both shoulders to get her to focus on me rather than Rico. "Agnes, I need you to listen…" And not be mad that you called me. "It won't do any good for me to check for a pulse because I can't even find my own."
She stopped sniffling and turned her wide green gaze fully on me. "What do you mean?"
I wasn't sure how else I could put it. "I mean just what I said. I'm completely inept at finding a pulse."
A giggle emerged—not because what I'd said was funny. No, this was more of an ironic-twist-of-fate giggle that kept her from going totally off the rocker as she processed the information I'd just fed her.
"I need a drink." Her gaze traveled longingly toward the house. "Please, can you grab my bottle of tequila off the dining room table?"
The last thing I wanted to do was go back in the room where the fumes were the strongest. Honestly, I'd just saved her life and maybe Rico's by calling the paramedics. How could she ask me to go back in there for a drink? I think the fumes were still affecting her ability to think rationally. The combination of tequila and fumes might be a more viable explanation. "How about some water?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at Rico again. "Please?"
Ugh! I was such a sucker for tears. If I ever had kids, it wouldn't take them long to figure out this superhero's kryptonite. "Fine." With one deep inhale of fresh air, I opened the back door and darted through the kitchen and into the dining room. It took less than a second for me to realize there was nothing there. Using what breath I had left, I shut all the doors in the dining room that led to the rest of the house. Once assured there was nothing more I could do, I rejoined Agnes. "There wasn't anything on the table."
A confused look unfolded on her freckled face. "I could've sworn I'd just gotten out a fresh bottle—hadn't even opened it yet. I think the last one is in the liquor cabinet."
Since I didn't see such a cabinet here in the kitchen, that meant it was back in the dining room. Though I understood her need for a drink right now, as this scenario could make anyone want to drink, my lungs were mounting a mighty protest. "Are you sure that's the best thing right now?"
The hazel of her eyes flashed to a brilliant green. "I'm well aware I've been drinking more since my marriage, but can we save the intervention until after I know if my husband is dead or not?"
Before I could retrieve the bottle, a pounding on the front door gave me a reprieve from heading back into the danger zone. I quickly unlocked the fence. No need to slide through the opening this time. I ran to the front of the house to direct the EMTs to where we needed them.
They immediately went to work on Rico to assess his vitals. I was certain they were better at the whole pulse checking than Agnes and I put together.
"What happened?" the woman asked as the man continued working.
Agnes's gaze was locked on Rico, so I shook my head and answered. "I'm not sure. Agnes assures me it wasn't a gas leak, but the fumes are pretty bad."
She nodded and returned to assisting her partner. The grim expression on black shirt number one told me what my fingers to Rico's neck or wrist would not. They didn't even need to say the words. He was dead.
I knew, from my limited experience interacting with ambulance personnel, that they wouldn't give up without a fight. After one look at Agnes, who'd started crying, an action that caused her violent cough to resume, they bolted into what I thought of as Jesus mode. In other words, trying to bring someone back from the dead. It had worked for Lazarus, but I didn't think Rico's chances were good.
One moved the gurney into position while the other came over to check on Agnes. "Are you alright, ma'am?"
Agnes gasped for air as she sobbed and coughed.
Black shirt number two shouted, "We need oxygen over here, stat!"
Before any response could be made, Agnes stood and waved off their concern. "I'm fine. Just distraught. Oxygen won't help that."
The EMT looked at me, and I shrugged. Truly, this was not my area of expertise. The medical field had never been a consideration for this girl. Florence Nightingale had nothing to fear from me taking her place in history.
About that time one of the EMTs who had been dealing with Rico looked up. "Let's get him to the hospital. It looks like he fell and hit his head to me, but…" He shot a quick glance between his partner and then to Agnes. "Do you want me to call another ambulance for you? You can ride with your husband too."
Agnes shook her head. "No need for another ambulance. I'll be fine."
He nodded. "Okay, then if you're coming with us, we need to go."
Her hands started to tremble, and the tears continued their free fall down her cheek. "I can't. I don't do well with things like this."
The EMT looked at me. I nodded and decided to test out my superpower of persuasion. "Agnes, you should go. I'll take care of things here. Plus, your cough sounds nasty. You really should have that checked out." I left out the part about the police being on their way. Agnes wasn't in any shape to deal with them right now. She was barely holding it together.
Agnes nodded. "Okay, I'll ride along in the ambulance. Just don't expect me to do anything."
The woman EMT offered a hint of a smile. "I'm sure my partner and I will be able to handle it. You can be there for moral support."
There was some general commotion as they got Rico and Agnes loaded. Once they were gone, there was just me and the gentle breeze of the late morning. It would've been a beautiful day. Would've been if Rico wasn't really dead—which he was. I might not be able to feel blood pumping through veins, but I could read facial expressions. These medical professionals should never play poker.
Until Agnes called me to let me know what was going on, which I was confident she would, I decided to go back inside and see if there was anything I could do to help. Thankfully, the fumes had either dissipated or the doors were doing their job and keeping the worst of it in the dining room.
I wished I'd had an opportunity to ask Agnes what happened before the ambulance arrived, though I was grateful they'd arrived quickly. I knew the police would be here soon. I was pretty sure it was an automatic thing when the paramedics were called. One of those just-in-case things—whatever that meant.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat at her kitchen table. There had been a lot of questions brewing around in my mind since I arrived here. My cell phone buzzed. The caller ID showed it was Agnes. I preferred the "no news is good news" angle right now, but I guess she wanted to share whatever she'd learned. "Hello?"
"We're at the hospital. I'm in the waiting room. I wanted to see if you were still at the house."
"I'm here. Hey, Agnes, before things get crazy aga
in, can I ask you a question?"
She chuckled. "You mean they aren't crazy still? But sure, go ahead and ask. It's the least I can do to thank you for helping me…us."
The question branding itself on the front of my brain needed to be asked first. "Why did you call me instead of official help in the first place?" I didn't want to point out that the delay while I pedaled like a madwoman to get over here might have cost Rico his life.
There was a pause and a slight cough. "I meant to call them. You're number nine on my speed dial. When I pressed the number to start the 9-1-1 call, I started coughing and held the button too long. Instead of being able to hit the one key, it dialed you."
I could almost hear the embarrassment in her voice.
"And like a dear, you came right away. Thank you again for that."
I leaned forward in the chair. In my own way, trying to close the distance between us. "That's what friends are for. May I ask you another question?"
There was a pause as I heard her muffled answer to someone at the hospital. After a moment, she answered. "Sorry about that. Ask away."
"If it wasn't a gas leak, what was the cause of the fumes? The smell was incredibly strong—toxic even."
"I don't know, to be honest. I put my ring in a glass to soak in a special cleaning solution I'd just learned about from a fellow DIYer. You know how I like to do things myself."
She was kind of independent, but I'd never taken her for someone who watched the DIY channel, much less have a DIY friend. Learned something new about Agnes today, I guess. I decided to keep the conversation flowing, I'd not argue with her. "Yes, you do. So you made your own special cleaner. Then what?"
"Once I dropped the ring in, I left Rico sitting at the table and went next door to visit Clara and Tara's parents. I wanted to tell them what a great meal the girls had helped prepare this morning." I heard a few sniffles through the connection. "Rico and I had been arguing since he got home. He was adamant that I not invest in Chef Jonathan's venture. I was adamant it was my money to do with as I pleased."