A Deathly Rattle

by Diana Orgain

  “I appreciate it, Cassandra,” I said, trying not to grit my teeth in her direction. Cassandra trotted off to go help her employees with closing duties while I forced Rita to drink her coffee.

  “Thanks for helping me,” Rita muttered under her breath as she sipped on the coffee.

  “Anytime,” I said, pulling out my phone. I called Jim, explaining to him that I was taking care of a friend who had gotten a little tipsy and that I had found myself at Cassandra’s shop.

  “Why are you there?” he groaned.

  “It’s for the case, babe,” I said. “But, I know you probably don’t want to come by here, but can you come pick up Laurie on your way home so I can get Rita taken care of?”

  “Of course,” Jim groaned into the phone. “I’m fifteen minutes out.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, hanging up the phone. “Okay, Rita, finish up your coffee. You feeling any better?”

  “I only see one of you now,” she groaned, rubbing her temples and shaking her head.

  “Okay, next I’m going to make you drink one more cup of coffee and a bottle of water. After Jim gets here, I’ll take you home, and you can take a cold shower before you go into work,” I said.

  “You’re a life saver,” Rita said, finishing off her cup of coffee.

  I headed to the counter, ordering a final cup for Rita before they dumped out the coffee for the day.

  Ch16

  Rita was just sobering up enough to where I didn’t feel like she was a danger to herself, so I set Laurie up in a high chair at the table with Rita while I ordered her a little treat. The girl working behind the counter, a twenty-something woman named Trixie, told me the little muffin was on the house since they were going to be throwing them out that night anyway. They were still soft, so I wasn’t too worried about letting Laurie nibble on some bits and pieces. By that point, Cassandra had wondered off somewhere around the shop – I think she was signing for a delivery.

  I started talking to Trixie as she had not been there the last time I had come by to interview employees. I watched Rita from a safe distance as she crumbled up bits of muffin for Laurie. The woman was looking better as well as looking very thankful for me coming to her stupid butts rescue. I turned back to Trixie, brining up Morgan. “Did you know her well?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Trixie said sadly. “We’re all pretty close here. I can’t imagine someone wanting to hurt Morgan or Cassandra… well…”

  “Well?” I questioned, trying to pull something out of her that I could use.

  “I mean, a lot of the women around here, Morgan and Cassandra included, have a thing for married men,” Trixie said. “Eventually someone was going to get really ticked, you know?”

  “Yeah, but I cleared Morgan’s sugar daddy and his wife,” I said. “Were there any other men apart from Bill she was seeing?”

  “Not recently,” Trixie said.

  “What about Cassandra?” I asked, and Trixie got a little timid.

  “I’m going to level with you,” I said. “I know all about Cassandra attempting to get with my husband, but I’m not all that concerned. I doubt Jim had anything to do with this, so if you know of anyone else, that would be helpful.”

  “Oh… so you knew about that,” Trixie said, looking embarrassed. “You know, Cassandra is actually a really awesome person. I don’t approve of that… lifestyle, but she’s not…”

  “You don’t need to try to explain anything to me,” I said. “I’m a professional. I’m here to work. If there is anything more you could tell me, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I guess maybe you could talk to Cassandra about other guys she or Morgan have been dating,” Trixie said. “But, I don’t know who would have had access to the back of the bakery. Cassandra keeps this place locked up pretty good.”

  “I understand,” I said, and then from the corner of my eye I spotted a camera. “You have security cameras?” I questioned.

  “Yeah,” Trixie said. “The police already skimmed through them, though, looking to see if anyone came into the back of the bakery the day those orange brownies were poisoned. But, no one other than the employees were back there, and they didn’t see anything suspicious. In fact, the only ones the police say they saw on the video near the poisoned brownies were Cassandra and Morgan.”

  I nodded, thinking to myself for a moment. “Would you mind if I had a second glance? Maybe I can see something they missed?”

  “Sure,” Trixie said. “The footage I think is still pulled out and sitting on Cassandra’s desk from when she let the police look at it.”

  I turned towards Rita. It was a small bakery, so I felt okay leaving her gradually more sober self there with Laurie for a bit. “You good?” I asked her. “If I go look in the back for a second.”

  “I’m cleared up enough to watch your kiddo while she nibbles on a muffin, yes,” Rita said, shaking her head. “If she starts crying, though, I’m bringing her straight to you.”

  “Jim should be here any minute,” I said. “I’ll just be in the back for a second.” Rita nodded, and I headed to the back where Cassandra’s office was. I shivered a bit. Last time I had been in that office, I had found those ridiculous pictures she had sent Jim. I started feeling myself getting angry again, but I reminded myself that Jim had handled it well. He had told her to back off, confronted her about it, and had deleted her off his social media pages. She had gotten turned down; I didn’t have anything to worry about.

  I started watching the video from Cassandra’s computer, and I specifically watched the video from the camera that was in the bakery’s kitchen. Sure enough, just as Trixie had said, the only ones in the back of the bakery that evening before the play were Morgan and Cassandra. That didn’t make much sense. It sure would have made my job a lot easier if the killer had just shown up on screen. I kept watching, and I watched Cassandra mixing the pot of the soon-to-be poisoned brownies. She was simultaneously working on two different brownie batches. Then, I saw something odd. Morgan stepped out of the bakery for a minute, and Cassandra pulled something out of a cabinet down below. My eyes widened as she poured some sort of liquid into one of the brownie batters.

  There’s no way, I thought to myself. Cassandra wouldn’t have poisoned herself, right? Surely, if she had been trying to kill Morgan for whatever reason, she would not have eaten a poisoned dish just to throw the police off her trail? She could have killed herself. She placed both batches of brownies into the oven and left. I continued watching the feed as Cassandra returned, and she and Morgan worked on a few more dishes for the party. Cassandra pulled the brownies out of the oven, poisoned batch and non-poisoned batch, and sat them on the counter. Cassandra then left the kitchen, probably to go handle something on the floor.

  Then I watched as Morgan picked up one of the pans and moved it to the other side of the first one so that she could make room for another baking project. The brownies got switched! Morgan must not have known that Cassandra was planning on poisoning someone, right?

  I kept watching as Cassandra returned and proceeded to decorate the first pan, the pan she believed to be the poisoned brownies, with purple icing. She then decorated the other batch, the one that was actually the poisoned batch, with orange icing. She didn’t know Morgan had switched the pans! I then watched the two women exchange some sort of conversation, and Cassandra cut into the orange icing brownies, and the two women dug in – satisfying a sweet tooth craving, Morgan more so than Cassandra. They laughed and chatted like two co-workers for a moment before packing up the brownies and the other items.

  I stood up and headed straight for the kitchen. Trixie wasn’t back there, so I assumed she was doing closing duties on the floor. I opened up the bottom cabinent, and sure enough I found a small, unlabeled bottle – the same one from the video. I sniffed it. It was a sweet yet chemically smell, just as my web search had told me it would. Cassandra had poisoned the brownies, Morgan not knowing had switched the batch, and Cassandra had dec
orated the batch incorrectly. The brownie’s that were supposed to be poisoned were the purple icing brownies.

  Then, behind a box of sugar, I saw some strange brownish residue. I looked around and realized exactly what it was I was seeing. Tobacco residue. Someone had been chopping up tobacco to place in some of the food.

  Why would someone put tobacco in bakery items, I wondered, and then I had a mild flashback to my doctors appointments. They had found nicotine in my system. Not only that, but the oxygen level in my blood had been low – a side effect of… chloroform. But, I didn’t eat any brownies at the party? In fact, the oxygen thing had been a problem for a couple of weeks, but I had assumed it was from the incident a month ago when I had been exposed to carbon monoxide.

  My eyes widened. It was all right there in front of me. Cassandra had been making me my own batches of brownies for weeks – filling it with small traces of chloroform and plenty of nicotine. She had been slowly poisoning me and getting me addicted to her brownies! No wonder I had eaten a whole plate of those one night! But, she must have gotten impatient. I thought back to the video; she had totally doused that one batch – instead of trying to poison me slowly, she decided to try to take me out at the after party! And, she hired me as her private investigator to throw me – and probably the police – off her trail! The whole time I had been thinking that Morgan or Cassandra had been the victim, but it had been me! No wonder I didn’t like that brownie at the party; it had been the wrong type of brownie and had just been coated in the icing that I liked!

  I snapped a picture of the bottle, and I found a mason jar in the cabinet, pouring a small bit inside so that I could have Rita send it in for testing. I replaced the bottle under the cabinet and borrowed a Ziplock bag from one of Cassandra’s counters to take a sample of the tobacco as well. I knew Cassandra was my client, but it was clear now that that had all been a ruse. She was the true culprit!

  I spun around, and there she was. Cassandra.

  “What are you doing back here?” she asked innocently.

  “Just seeing if I can find anything for the case,” I said. “So far, nothing.” My heart was racing. Laurie was here.

  “Nothing?” she asked, and her eyes fell towards my right hand where I was holding the mason jar. “What’s that?”

  “Just a sample of something I want to have tested,” I said.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  “Under the counter,” I said. “There was an unlabeled bottle – it could be nothing – but you never know. It might lead somewhere.”

  I think she knew immediately. She was busted. Her little plan had failed. And, I was ticked. She was trying to kill me so that she could get with Jim! Not only had she been flirting with my husband, sending him naked pictures, and calling the police on him to make him look like the guilty party – but she had been trying to kill me and my babies! My pregnancy was at risk because of this psychopath. She had put doubt in my head about my husband.

  Cassandra stepped towards me, and it was very intimidating – I could tell she was going for the tobacco in my left hand. She shoved me, and the mason jar shattered on the floor. I managed to slip by her, and I darted out into the front of the shop. “It’s Cassandra!” I shouted towards Rita who was still sitting and feeding Laurie bits of muffin. “And, don’t feed Laurie anything from here!”

  My shouts were not much of an explanation, but I suppose the freaked out look on my face was enough to get Rita up and moving. I have never seen anyone whip a kid out of a high chair so quick. As Rita was placing Laurie on her hip, Cassandra came bursting out of the kitchen wielding a bread knife. “Duck!” Rita shouted at me, and I obeyed quickly. I’m glad I did because Rita’s half empty cup of hot coffee went flinging over my head and straight into Cassandra’s face. The thing busted against her forehead before sending her flying onto her back.

  “Whoa!” I yelped. “What an arm!”

  But, of course, Cassandra was already up on her feet again. I kicked the knife away from her. “Get Laurie out of here!” I shrieked, but it didn’t look like Rita – a cop – had any interest in leaving me alone with someone as loopy as Cassandra.

  Cassandra stood, her face bloodied, and she held out her hands like they were claws. I was not in the mood for a cat fight, but it looked like she sure was. She ran at me, grabbing my hair. I think she tried to punch me in my stomach, but I jolted back quick and punched her nose. She yelped, but then she was thrown back quick. Now, Rita was clearly a strong woman, but I know she sure didn’t fling Cassandra back like that. I spun, and I saw Jim. He had snatched her by her arm and thrown her back with a serious ferocity; his eyes were blazing.

  “All right, easy there, big guy,” Rita said, plopping Laurie into Jim’s arms, instantly settling him. I’m not entirely sure when he got inside, but I’m glad he did. If that woman had punched me in my stomach, I might would have strangled her.

  Rita sat on Laurie’s back, pressing her knee into her spine. “Shoot, I don’t have my cuffs,” Rita groaned. “Looks like I’m just going to have to sit on you until a uniformed officer gets here.”

  “I told you she was crazy!” Jim snapped. “Did she attack you? What happened?”

  Laurie started fussing, so I took her from him since he was having a hard time relaxing. “Cassandra killed Morgan,” I said, deciding not to give him the detail that I was the intended victim just yet. I’d wait until Cassandra was in the back of a cop car so Jim didn’t have the opportunity to go at her – not that he would, but you never know.

  Rita called in backup around the time Trixie came wondering back inside from a smoke break. The woman looked very confused, and Cassandra just cussed up at her when she questioned what was going on. “Yeah, you might want to keep your mouth shut,” Rita warned, placing a hand on the back of Cassandra’s head and making her kiss the floor. “You tried to sock my girl in her gut. Not cool,” Rita said, winking up at me. She held out a hand towards Jim. “Rita, by the way. You must be Jim.”

  Jim shook his head. “Yeah, nice to meet you…” he said, shaking her hand, but then he laughed slightly as he looked down at Rita who was so casual about detaining a very frantic woman.

  Backup arrived at last, and Rita spoke with the officer as he placed a cuffed Cassandra into the back of his patrol car. Rita was sober enough now to give her statement without letting the other officer realize she had been wasted only a few hours before. “You mind coming in early so you can see your perp down to the station?” the officer asked.

  “Actually, I think I need to go home and shower,” Rita said. “I’ll be there soon, though. Promise.” Rita then threw a thumb in my direction. “We need to see what we can do for this girl. She solved this case for us.”

  The officer agreed, shook my hand, and was about to drive off. I couldn’t help but to throw a chide comment Cassandra’s way. “I’ll bill you for the case,” I said. Cassandra smirked angrily at me from the other side of the car window. “What, you’re not going to pay me now?” I questioned, and she looked away.

  Jim placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right, baby?”

  I smiled at him. “I’m now.”

  Ch17

  It was closing night of the play, and of course I had come out to attend along with Jim and Paula and even Rita. We all sat together, shaking our heads at the disaster of a comedy once more. Although, I got to say, the musical number cracked me up again. There was going to be another after party for closing night – this time the director made the food for it himself. No more chances, I guess.

  I had brought a copy of the original script with me, skimming through it as the play was performed. The difference from what was on paper and what was up on that stage was astounding. Sure, some of the lines in the script were a bit cheesy, but frankly it was still a lovely play that could have been done very well. But, instead, Director Ricky had taken an angle that I can hardly imagine someone coming up with based off the written script. Honestly,
as much as I couldn’t stand Domingo, I would have preferred the version of the play in my hand than the ridiculous slapstick that was being displayed up on that stage.

  The final scene. Peter steps out on stage, playing the character Vinnie, and I think this is perhaps the only scene the director chose to keep even remotely serious. Peter has just finished framing up the death scene of my mother’s character to look like she had had a heart attack after hearing the news of her husband… when in fact the heart attack had happened in the bedroom. Peter steps out onto the stages apron, and the curtain closes behind him. A single spotlight on him. Soft music. He makes a phone call to the characters cousin, asking him for a favor – saying he needs work because he needs to get out of town quick. “What do you mean you’re using some other PI?” Peter questions in that same thick Spanish accent – significantly thicker than what the original play manuscript requires. “A woman!” Peter’s character exclaimed. “So, you’d rather have some broad handling your cases than me?”

  My brain went off this time. Something about the way Peter said the line this time, and the fact that I was paying more attention to the script than the play this time around, made me pause. It sounded very Domingo. The character was obviously based off himself, but I had questioned just how real the script was supposed to be. Domingo had told me it was a complete fabrication, but I realized something in that moment. Peter’s character was calling in a favor to a cousin who lived in San Francisco. A cousin who was using a female PI instead of himself. That subtle sexism and arrogance. It was all very familiar.

  “A restaurant owner in San Francisco has gotten himself in hot water, eh?” Peter questioned, and again the neurons in my brain were spiraling. “His critics boyfriend is dead, and he’s being blamed? Sounds like my kind of case.”

  Domingo’s cousin passed me over a case just like that because Domingo needed work. Peter continued. “A rich idiot in hot water makes for a great pay day. I’ll see you in San Francisco.” Peter hangs up the phone and stares out towards the audience for his final line. “Here I come, West Coast.” Just as they had done opening night, the lights fade, and the play is over. People clap and laugh as the cast comes out for curtain call.