by Libby Klein
I handed her the box of Puffs. “How did you find out about Joel and Barbie having an affair?”
“Barbie sent me pictures of them together . . . doing . . . you know. Then I found receipts and phone records.”
“What did Joel say when you confronted him?”
“What makes you think I confronted him?”
“Didn’t you?”
She wiped her eyes. “He doesn’t know I know.” “Well, I asked him about the affair.”
“You had no right! That was none of your business.... What did he say?”
“He denied it.”
“That figures.”
“So you two didn’t talk about it. Didn’t discuss the root problems or demand that he break it off. You just picked up and kept going like it didn’t happen?”
She put a protective hand on her belly again. “The affair was a mistake and it’s over. Now that we’re expecting he has to stay with me.”
O-kay. That’s not twisted logic at all.
“The word on the street”—at least the street that leads to the senior center—“is that this baby is an attempt to save your marriage.”
“We were so happy together when we were younger. A baby was all that was missing.”
She was zoning out on me and to be honest, I was a little afraid of her. She needed some counseling and possibly lithium. It was time for my Hail Mary pass and then get the heck out of Dodge. I stood as if to go. “Those flowers on the windowsill are beautiful. You have quite a green thumb.”
“Thank you. Most of them came from the Ecology Club.”
“It looks like one is missing—what was that one?”
“Just an orchid. It needed to go back to the greenhouse for some TLC.”
“I’ve been thinking about getting an orchid. Do you ever cut those and put them in a vase?”
She snorted. “Not unless you want them to die really fast. Dendrobium orchids don’t live long off the root. You’re better off enjoying them as a plant.”
“You ever make anything with the flowers?”
She yawned. “What, like a bouquet?”
“I was thinking more like perfume.”
“No. I wouldn’t know how to do something like that.”
I left Kristen’s office and went to the gym to talk with Coach Wilcott. The gym was empty so I went around back to the staff parking lot. The Trans Am was gone. I went back inside to the coach’s office. It was dark inside and the door was shut. I knocked quietly. “Hello?” No answer. I tried the doorknob and to my surprise, the door swung open. I quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching me, then I ducked into the office and shut the door.
The smell of sweat socks and unwashed uniforms punched me in the face. I felt like I was back in the fifth grade when boys were gross. Whatever athletics budget the school had, it was not being spent in here. One 1970s-era metal desk. One army-green metal filing cabinet. A whiteboard covered with circles and X’s and arrows diagramming some sport’s play took up one wall. Motivational posters like “There is no I in team” and “If you can dream it, you can achieve it” were hung around the other walls.
I checked the coach’s desk. Nothing exciting there. Office supplies and a giant container of salted peanuts. The file cabinet was full of students’ records and insurance forms and one nudie magazine in the back of the top drawer. Yuck! For a guy whose entire fashion sense was comprised of matching the color of his plastic whistle to his sweatpants of the day, the coach was surprisingly organized.
I was about to give up when I spotted a black duffel bag under the lone visitor chair in the corner. I pulled the bag out and tried to open it but it was locked. There on the side was a luggage-style combination dial. Great. Then I had an idea. I rolled all the numbers to zero and the lock opened. Pssh, men.
Jackpot! This was the med kit. I used a ballpoint pen in my purse to push around the contents. It was full of bandages, ibuprofen, and ice packs. Alcohol swabs, wound cleaner and gauze pads, and one lone EpiPen. I took a couple of pictures of the contents with my phone and locked it back up.
At that exact second, I heard footsteps and the jingle of keys coming toward the office and started to panic. Shoving the bag under the chair I looked around for a place to hide. I tried to cram myself under the desk but my rear was sticking out. The footsteps stopped right outside the door. In a pathetic attempt to hide my butt, I pushed open the middle drawer from under the desk and it rested on my rear.
The doorknob jiggled and the door cracked open. I held my breath and said a prayer. Nothing. Then the lights were turned out and the door was shut.
Footsteps faded into the distance.
I could breathe again. It must have been the janitor. I lifted my hips, scooted the drawer back in, and backed out from under the desk. I popped my head up at eye level and peered around the room. That was too close. I am not the kind of girl who sneaks around and goes through other people’s belongings.
I cracked open the door and looked out. The coast was clear. I left the office through the gym as fast as my size eight boots would carry my size eighteen behind.
I was heading home when I got another idea. I gave Missy a call.
“Hey, you. How is the investigation going?”
“Fine. I have some leads. I have a question for you.”
“Sure, anything. I want to help any way I can.”
“Who is the Ecology Club teacher?”
“Mr. Nelson. Why?”
“I was just wondering. I want to get an orchid for the house and I was hoping he could give me some pointers on how to keep it alive. I seem to have a black thumb.”
“Oh, well, you will have to wait a couple of weeks. Mr. Nelson is on medical leave until mid-October. Something about a minor surgery. I don’t know for sure but I hope it was to have that giant mole removed from his nose. No matter how hard you try it’s impossible to keep from staring at it when he talks.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I guess the orchid will have to wait.”
“Why don’t you just ask the parent volunteer?”
“The what, now?”
“Every club has a teacher overseer and a parent volunteer. You know, in case the teacher can’t be there. It encourages parent involvement.”
“I did not know that. Who is the parent volunteer for the Ecology Club?”
“Hold on while I check the staff directory. . . . Oh, dear, it was Barbie.”
Alarm bells were ringing in my head, but I couldn’t decipher just why.
“I guess you’ll have to wait for Mr. Nelson. Of course, you could just Google it.” She laughed.
“Oh, of course. Duh. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Sorry I couldn’t help you more. Are you holding up okay?”
“Yeah. You know, taking it one day at a time.”
“Well, you’re in my thoughts and prayers. Let me know if you need anything.”
I thanked her and hung up. Do I need anything? Both the coach and Kristen had access to needles and knowledge of the security cameras, and worked down the hall from the chemistry department. But neither one of them seemed like making a poison in a chem lab would be their forte. Joel had a strong motive and could get the needles from the coach’s bag and the plant from his wife’s office. But would he know what to do with them? And what about Billy? Strong motive. Science award. Mysteriously missing. But he’d been gone from the area for years and the motive was weak. I was missing something important, I could feel it. I thought what I needed right now, more than anything, was a miracle.
And maybe a latte.
Chapter 31
I drove back over the bridge into Cape May. It was really too late for caffeine, but I had a killer detox headache that only espresso could cure. Plus, I had a quiet night in with the girls planned for later, and that should be a lot more lively than lying around in pajamas watching Law & Order reruns.
When I walked into the espresso bar, two ladies were sitting at the front window drinking iced cof
fees, and a very serious-looking little boy with blond hair was sitting at the counter. He was wearing khaki shorts and a navy sport coat with a crest over the pocket. Through his thick glasses, his eyes were the size of quarters.
“Hi. I’m Henry. I’m lactose-intolerant.”
I had to tamp down a giggle. “Hi, Henry. I’m Poppy. I’m gluten-intolerant.”
“What’s glue-in?”
“It’s the stuff that makes bread and spaghetti and cookies.”
He gasped. “Oh, no!”
“I know, right?”
“Do you have special cookies and sketti you can have?”
“Not yet.”
“I hope you get some. I have special milks, so I don’t have to feel left out.”
“That’s good. It’s no fun to feel left out, is it?”
Henry shook his head no.
“How old are you?”
He held up four fingers. “I’m f-ree.” He switched to one finger. “But I’m going to be four soon.”
A giggle escaped, and I sat down on the stool next to him. I looked over at the ladies who were engrossed in conversation and not watching Henry at all.
“Ooh, a birthday. Do you have any special plans?”
Henry nodded and his glasses bounced on his nose. “We’re going to the zoo to see the kitties.”
“I love kitties.”
“They go, mrow.”
“Which kitties do you want to see?”
“The ones with the polka-dots.”
“Mmm. Leopards. Nice.”
Henry nodded. He was very serious like a little old man, and my heart just melted.
Gia came in from the back room carrying a giant bag of coffee beans slung up on one shoulder. His blue-and-white striped shirt was open at the neck and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. My heart melted some more.
“Buongiorno, bella. I see you have met my son.”
I was stunned. I looked from Gia to Henry, who was watching my reaction closely. I smiled. “Yes, we’ve been talking about kitties.”
Henry nodded. “Poppy can’t have skettis.”
Gia smacked his forehead with his palm. “Oh, no! Non pasta, e una tragedia!”
Henry looked at me and giggled. “My dad likes to talk like that.”
“Yes, I know.” And I’m trying real hard to keep from throwing myself at him.
“Daddy, could she come with us to see the kitties?”
Oh, boy. Poor Gia—put on the spot. “Aww, that’s not—”
“Yes.”
“Say what, now?”
“Yes, bella. Come with us for Henry’s birthday on Saturday.”
Hmm. Who exactly is “us”? I was racking my brain to remember any signs of wedded bliss. Have I seriously been flirting with a married man this whole time? I looked at Gia’s hand. No ring. Still . . .
“Are you sure?” I looked to Henry, and saw those giant eyes pleading with me. I couldn’t help but smile. “I would love to go.”
Gia’s smile lit up the room. “It is settled then. We will meet here at eleven, and we’ll go to lunch after.”
Did I just get asked out? I can’t tell. Now I’m going to obsess about this.
He started to whistle a little tune, and pulled his cell phone out. He said something in Italian, then hung up.
“Nonna is ready for you now, so go on over. I’ll watch you.”
Henry jumped down from the stool and adjusted his sport coat. “We’re making waveeowee today.”
I looked at Gia, and he mouthed, ravioli.
“That sounds yummy. I almost forgot to ask you, what do you want for your birthday?”
He answered without hesitation. “Cake.”
A boy after my own heart.
Gia walked him to the front of the store and gave Henry a hug. “Be good for Nonna.”
Henry looked back at me and curled his fingers in a little wave. “Bye, Poppy.”
I curled my fingers and waved back. “Bye, Henry.”
I watched him walk across the courtyard to an older woman wearing an apron. They went into the Italian restaurant I had brunch in last week.
“That is my mother, Henry’s nonna. She keeps him for a couple hours in the afternoon before the dinner rush until my evening barista comes in.”
Okay, Poppy, just be cool. Be the kind of girl who holds her cards close to the vest. Poker face. Mysterious. “Are you married?” The words flew out of my mouth with reckless self-abandon.
Gia froze mid-stride. His face broke into a slow grin. “No. I’m not married.” He took his place behind the bar and readied a shot. “Henry’s mother left us soon after he was born.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. So it’s just the two of you?” Too obvious?
“I wouldn’t say that. My mom does a lot for us. And I have big family who is always around. Whether I want them to be or not.”
He pulled a thick, sweet shot of espresso.
“That must be nice. I’m an only child and my father died when I was young.” Okay, now I’m rambling.
” I am sorry, bella. My father died when I was just a boy living in Roma. I know how hard that is.” He pulled a little container out from the under-counter fridge, poured the contents into a frothing pitcher, and warmed it.
“Henry is adorable.”
Gia grinned. “He’s so serious. Four going on forty.”
“Does he get that from you or his mother?” Okay, now that was definitely too obvious.
He laughed. “Not his mother.” Gia poured the shot into a warmed cup and topped it with the heated mixture. Then he sprinkled cocoa on top and placed it in front of me. “Try this.”
I tasted the drink. “It’s very good. Rich and sweet. But it’s not milk. What is it?”
“You said you were not allowed to have milk anymore so I made you up some of what I make for Henry. It’s a combination of coconut and almond.”
“You remembered that I can’t have dairy?”
He shrugged and made a face that said it was nothing. “I hoped you would like it.”
“I love it. I made some gluten-free muffins this morning out of almond and coconut flour. I never would have guessed that you could make milk out of them too.”
“You should bring some in tomorrow. I would love to try them. I’ve been wanting to expand my selection for people with allergies. My mom makes most of the desserts in my case but she is old-school. She doesn’t do gluten-free. She thinks I’m making it up.”
“She sounds like my aunt. I would love to. I’ll bring some in the morning.”
“Good.” He smiled like he had just gotten away with something. He started to whistle again and wiped down the counter.
“Good.” I wondered what he was up to and drank my coconut cappuccino while he waited on a customer who had stopped in after work for a flat white to go.
When the customer left, Gia came back over. “Now tell me, how is the investigation going? What have you found out?”
“I found out that the police are looking for chemical cleaners and a flower that could be poisonous.”
“Really? That must be the cause of death.”
“I think so too. I remembered that Kristen had exotic plants on her windowsill so I dropped in on her today.”
“And?”
“A plant was gone.”
“Do you think she was getting rid of evidence?”
“I don’t know. With Kristen and Joel it’s hard to say what’s going on. Is one of them the killer? Or is it both of them? And they both keep pointing fingers at the coach.”
“What would be their motives?”
“Kristen found out that Joel was having an affair with Barbie.”
“Jealousy is a strong motive. How did she catch him?”
“Barbie sent Kristen pictures of her and Joel together.”
“Oh, Dio mio. What a way to find out.”
“The weird thing is, Joel doesn’t know he’s been caught. Kristen never confronted him.”
“Then the
y couldn’t have killed her together. How would Kristen explain it to Joel, what they were doing?”
Huh. Why didn’t I think of that? “You make a good point. But Joel could have killed Barbie to cover the affair. To keep Kristen from finding out.”
“Or maybe he wanted to call it off and she threatened to tell his wife.”
“That makes sense too. If he wanted out of the affair and Barbie refused, he could have killed her to keep her quiet.”
“Who is the coach they both keep pointing fingers at?”
“He’s the high school gym teacher and basketball coach. They were both volunteers under his oversight.”
“What would his motive be?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Have you questioned him?”
“Once, the other day. And he lied to me. I tried to talk to him again today but he had already left the building, so I kind of . . . snuck into his office and looked around.”
Gia stood up straighter and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, mama! Please do not get caught.”
“I was careful.” Except for the whole butt-sticking-out part. “And I was desperate. I am quickly running out of time.”
Gia put one warm hand over mine. “Don’t worry. We will figure this out.” I felt my insides go all squiggly.
A beautiful young girl came in from the back room. She had long black hair and red fingernails that matched her red stiletto boots. She was tying an apron around her size two black leather hips. She came over and smacked Gia playfully on the butt. He smiled and pulled her into a hug.
Be calm. Be aloof. “Well, look at the time. I guess I’d better go. I have to go see . . . people . . . some people about . . . stuff—stuff with friends.”
Bumbling, I dropped my purse on the floor, then I laughed like a maniac.
Pull yourself together, Poppy. I picked up my purse by the wrong end and dumped out the contents. I was shoving items back in as fast as I could. “See you tomorrow, muffins. I mean, ha-ha, see you tomorrow with the muffins. Okay, bye.”
I can’t believe he has a girlfriend. I was so stupid. And why do I even care? After that kiss from Tim I have no right to be jealous. I raced out to my car in the back lot. I’d left them both wide-eyed and stunned. Boy, do I know how to make an impression. Why did I ever agree to bring in muffins tomorrow? I could have never stepped foot back in there and spared myself the humiliation. Ugh. Always with the big mouth.