Killer Kale Chips

by Patrice Lyle

  I shook my head. "My heart's with you." He did raise an interesting point though. Getting married at home had its appeal. "Let's talk about that."

  Tex glanced at his watch. "Want to try an experiment?"

  I smiled. "Sure. A destination kind? A romantic kind?"

  "The taxi-cab kind."

  I laughed. "To see if we're not blacklisted without Aunt Alfa?"

  "You got it." He stepped out and hailed a cab.

  One screeched to a halt and let us in without question.

  "Where are you folks going?" The guy was decked out in a baseball cap and seemed happy to see us.

  "We're headed to Sunflower Co-op." Tex snaked his arm around me.

  I settled into the backseat. I leaned into Tex and felt a sense of comfort stronger than dark chocolate.

  That was saying a lot.

  Busy NYC scenes whizzed past us, and soon we had arrived at the health food store. Tex paid the cab driver, and we headed inside.

  The familiar scent that lingers in all health food stores—one I could never quite pinpoint—hit me when we walked in. A glance at the directory showed us the snack aisle. We found a few brands of kale chips next to a large empty spot on the shelf.

  Tex crouched down to read the label. "Ken's Killer Kale Chips."

  "No surprise they got pulled. Word travels fast."

  "If those kale chips didn't do Veronica in, Ken's business is going to suffer."

  "True." My mind went back to that bridal invoice. "Do you really think they were getting married? I mean, their argument seemed like they knew each other in more than a business way."

  He shot me a cute look. "What would a good PI do?"

  "I thought you were tired of me being a part-time PI?"

  "Not when that darn detective suspects my princess of foul play." He leaned in for a kiss, and I obliged.

  For a moment, it was just us and the heat of his kiss. And the heat of his body against mine. I couldn't wait for our wedding. Sunny Florida sounded fab, but the heart of my life—aside from Tex, Aunt Alfa, and Brownie—was my wellness center, Health Nuts Rock, nestled in Sea Spray, Maryland. Was that more fitting? Images of saying I do to Tex there flooded my mind.

  Until someone brushed past me, disrupting my pleasant thoughts.

  "Sorry," a woman's voice said.

  I turned to see a brown-haired woman in a kimono peering at the empty space on the shelf previously occupied by Ken's Killer Kale Chips. Willow! She removed her cell phone from her purse and took a few pictures.

  "Check it out," she said to her friend. "Ken's Killer Kale Chips have been pulled off the market."

  Her blonde-ish, pale-skinned friend looked familiar.

  "Aren't you a vendor at the Big Apple Natural Product Expo?" I was certain I'd seen her at check-in. That glowing alabaster skin was gawk-worthy.

  She nodded. "I'm Helena, a holistic esthetician."

  Ah. That explained her complexion.

  Willow flashed a half-smile. "You were on the scene of the crime. You tried to revive Veronica."

  "I did, and you pointed out the kale chips near Veronica." In an effort to divert attention from yourself after your fight with the deceased? How to best approach that?

  "It's obvious the kale chips killed her." Willow seemed so sure of herself.

  "I recall you hurrying through the expo hall saying that Veronica was going to be sorry." I tried to read her expression.

  She smirked. "It's no secret we weren't exactly BFFs. She stole my husband, so I stole her boyfriend."

  Tex frowned. "Ma'am, if you don't mind, how'd you steal her boyfriend if she was already seeing your husband?"

  My fiancé was always the voice of reason.

  Her jaw tightened. "Semantics aren't important."

  "Maybe not," I said, "but threats are, and you made a threat against Veronica. You said she was going to be sorry."

  "That wasn't a threat." Willow sounded perturbed. "I never threatened Veronica Forks even after everything she did."

  I wasn't sure how to respond, but her friend cut in.

  Helena leaned against the display racks and shot a stern look at Willow. "How about we leave?"

  "Sure," Willow said. "Let's at least head to the skin care section so you can get your cream."

  "They don't sell it here," Helena said as they walked off.

  Tex and I looked at each other.

  "I reckon that Willow's got a lot of anger," Tex said.

  I nodded. "But was it enough to push her to murder?"

  CHAPTER NINE

  Goy-Tro-Guns?

  Tex and I arrived at the hotel with several non-tainted kale chip selections. My hopes were high that Brownie would resume eating his new snacks. We strode through the lobby, which still buzzed with journalists.

  "You think Aunt Alfa called the front desk to see if the expo opened up?" Tex asked, eyeing the scene.

  "She might have been too busy with Brownie. We can check for her."

  We swung by the desk and inquired. Apparently the police had finished processing the scene, and the expo was due to open after lunch.

  "I reckon that will make Aunt Alfa happy."

  I hoisted my purse over my shoulder. "Ming too."

  We left the desk and headed for the elevator. An anguished wail sounded behind us. A pale blonde in her thirties wearing a white mink stole cinched around her shoulders sobbed into a wad of tissues. Her thinness reminded me of Veronica, as did the angles of her face. An older version of the woman in the mink tried to comfort the hysterical woman.

  "There, there, Zelinda. Veronica wouldn't want to see you so upset."

  Zelinda gasped. "Are you kidding? V loved me being a drama queen over her situation. Like that wedding she planned that I knew would never work."

  The older woman shushed her, but I heard it. I shot a look at Tex.

  "Think maybe that's her sister and mother?"

  He eyed them. "Could be."

  "I'd love to ask them about this wedding. The whole thing is so bizarre about her marrying Ken."

  Someone cleared her throat behind me. Then she said, "Dr. Piper. May I have a word?"

  Oh no. That sounded like Detective Malone.

  I spun on my cute silver heels, and sure enough, there she was in her gorgeous-eye-makeup glory. An annoyed look spread across her face, however. Probably confirmation that she hadn't received her pedicure.

  "Hi," I said in my best please don't think of me as a suspect voice.

  She acknowledged Tex with a nod and turned toward me. "I'm sure you've heard that the lab confirmed the kale chips were poisoned. We're waiting to find out exactly what the poison was, but this is now an active murder investigation."

  I hesitated. Was it best to say I had heard the gossip or deny being involved in crime gossip?

  "Yes," I said, going with the honesty was the best policy angle.

  She whipped out her notebook. "A witness came forward saying that you threatened to publicly discredit kale chips?"

  "I did no such thing." Had I? My mind raced back to the scene at the kale chip booth.

  "You wanted to expose"—she squinted at her tablet—"something called goy-tro-guns?"

  Darn that Cooter!

  "I never threatened to do anything, detective. I merely wanted to offer education on the matter, about how goitrogens," I said slowly, hoping to correct her mispronunciation, "can possibly affect thyroid health."

  She mulled that over. "I checked out your site. Pretty impressive wellness center you have. If it turns out that you're not the killer, then I'll do a Skype appointment."

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a killer."

  Tex stiffened. "This lady's one fine classy gal. I assure you, she couldn't hurt anything. She rescues spiders."

  I smiled.

  "The NYPD will be the judge of that." She flipped to a new page. "We have a video of an altercation involving a cab driver and your aunt yesterday in the vicinity of Princess Bridal."

  Oh, for the love o
f dark chocolate clusters. Isn't any place safe from video?

  "Care to fill me in?" Her tone was edged with suspicion.

  How to best present this? Ah, I knew. A PI flashcard came to mind. One about deflection. The card had taught me that the best way to deflect attention away from a topic during interrogation was to offer up juicy information about something else.

  Of course, I was the one being interrogated, but the tactic should still work.

  "Yesterday evening," I said, "we visited the Princess Bridal Shop and discovered a most surprising piece of intel."

  Detective Malone narrowed her eyes. "Do tell, doctor."

  "Ruby, Veronica's assistant, tried to return a wedding dress for Veronica." I filled her in on the dirt and how an invoice revealed the groom's identity as Ken.

  Her hand stopped moving. "As in Killer Kale Chip Ken?"

  A sinking feeling swirled in my gut. I hated to rat Ken out, but the suspicious nature of the transaction couldn't be denied. "Yes. The dress was ordered last year for a wedding planned for this Christmas."

  She flipped through the pages of her notebook, stopped at a heavily scribbled-upon page, and ran her finger down as she read. "You previously told me that you witnessed an argument between them where Ken said that the deceased would be his new boss over his dead body?"

  "Correct. The invoice was a surprise because they didn't seem like an engaged couple to me." Of course, I'd lucked out with Tex. He was the Powerball in the lottery of my love life.

  "Do you have this invoice handy?"

  I removed it from my purse and handed it to her.

  "Why were you withholding evidence?"

  My eyes widened. "I just got it."

  "Fine, but if you find anything else, you need to call me right away."

  I nodded.

  She slipped the paper inside her notebook. "About the altercation with your aunt. The video apparently shows her, quote, creaming the windshield of a taxicab. Is your aunt prone to anger-management problems?"

  "Not until the cab driver called her an old bat." Oops. That slipped out too fast.

  "Did she know Veronica Forks?"

  I shook my head. "We'd never even heard of Veronica Forks until this expo."

  "That's true, ma'am," Tex added. "Doc here doesn't use tuning forks in her practice."

  The detective eyed him and then looked at me. "A witness shared a statement about your aunt giving a psychic reading where she referred to the deceased as a 'death nut' and prophesized the deceased's death. Are you aware of this incident?"

  My stomach twisted into a knot. Darn that Loyola. Who was he to talk? He'd practically done a victory dance on Veronica's dead body. A fact that needed to be shared.

  "Her prophecy was based on what the client wanted to hear and—"

  Detective Malone tilted her head. "Are you saying your aunt's not an honest psychic? That she provides readings based on the client's implied desires? Not that I believe in psychics anyway," she added.

  Why did detectives have to twist everything?

  "My aunt's honest, I assure you. What you should follow up on is Loyola's reaction to Veronica's death. He did a victory dance in front of her body," I reminded her. Then I filled her in on our conversation after my initial questioning onstage and about his alliance with Willow. "Aunt Alfa has no motive, but Loyola and Willow sure do. Veronica burned both of them."

  "We're following up on all leads." Her expression was serious. "Thanks for your time, Dr. Piper."

  She walked away and left me feeling nervous. Her questions about Aunt Alfa made my chest tighten. Tex slipped his arm around me and pulled me into a side hug.

  "That detective thar sure seems like she doesn't know where to start." He kissed my forehead and stepped back.

  "The number of suspects are plenty, which isn't helping." As much as Tex hadn't wanted me to play PI anymore, things had changed. I wasn't thrilled when the detective had questioned me about my alleged involvement in Veronica's death, but now that suspicion had been cast upon my auntie too, I had to act.

  And I had to act now.

  I turned to Tex. "I need to up my PI game."

  He lifted my chin. "No way."

  My heart clenched. Now was not the time for him to play Mr. I Don't Want My Fiancé in Danger. "Tex, I love you, but I have to do this."

  "No, we have to do this." He paused, and his expression softened. "I reckon I might just have to get my own set of PI flash cards."

  A stab of gratefulness hit me. I'd been lucky enough to find a man who supported me and my flash cards.

  I grabbed him by the hand. "Let's go, PI Tex." We headed for the elevator, and my attack plan swirled in my mind. "First thing I want to do is figure out who's telling the police trumped-up stories about the kale chip altercation."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Aunt Alfa Goes Viral

  We arrived in our room to find Aunt Alfa trying to console Brownie. He lay on the bed with his front hoof covering his snout.

  Aunt Alfa crouched beside him, singing "I'm a Little Teapot" into his ear. "I hope you two kids got some kale chips because he's despondent. He hasn't squealed on any of his favorite songs. I did "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" twice and got nothing."

  I set the bag on the dresser and removed the kale chip offerings. "We have plain, sea salt, and coconut." Brownie loved shredded coconut, so I hoped that flavor would be a big hit.

  Tex strode to the bedside and crouched down. "Morning, little guy," he said as he stroked Brownie's snout. "Mommy and Daddy got you some snacks."

  My heart clenched. I so couldn't wait to marry this man.

  "Did you hear that, Brownie? Your parents went shopping for you." Aunt Alfa loved to rouse enthusiasm in humans and animals.

  But to no avail. Brownie didn't budge or wiggle his snout.

  I tore open the coconut kale chips and presented a handful to Brownie. Instead of exuberantly eating them, however, he merely sniffed them.

  "Come on, Brownie," I cooed. "They're delicious. Look at me." I popped one in my mouth and chewed. "Yum."

  I gave Tex and Aunt Alfa a pointed look to follow suit. They popped kale chips in their mouths and made a display of enjoying them, but Brownie just stared at us.

  "He's not even squealing, Pipe." Aunt Alfa retrieved the plain kale chips, opened the bag, and offered some to Brownie.

  But he refused. Again.

  Hope stirred inside when Tex offered Brownie the sea-salt variety, but our piglet's reaction remained unchanged.

  "He only wants Ken's Killer Kale Chips." Aunt Alfa gave me a somber look. "Were there any Killer Kale Chips at the health food store?"

  Tex shook his head. "The shelves were cleared out. Must have had a massive recall."

  I sighed. "If Ken's the killer, his company might go under."

  Aunt Alfa looked at me. "Has murder been confirmed? Aside from what Ming said?"

  I glanced at Tex, unsure of how much to say. Aunt Alfa was the world's feistiest and most energetic nonagenarian, but I didn't want her stressing out.

  "We ran into the detective downstairs, and she confirmed it was murder. The kale chips were tainted." No need to get into the other details.

  Aunt Alfa mulled the news over. "The real question is who poisoned the kale chips? Who had the means?"

  My PI mind whirled. "Yes, we need to figure out motive, means, and opportunity."

  "Especially since that detective thinks you might have had something to do with it." Aunt Alfa looked worried.

  "They'll catch the killer," I said. "But we should look into the case ourselves."

  "It'd be mighty nice if Ken wasn't the killer. Maybe then the Killer Kale Chips would be back on the market, which would make Brownie happy," Tex said.

  "Brownie sure loves those kale chips." That invoice popped into my mind. "Let's talk to Ken today about the wedding dress. Maybe Ruby too."

  "Good idea, Pipe. And speaking of wedding dresses, if the expo doesn't open back up, why don't we hit another shop?"r />
  I turned toward my auntie. "Forgot to tell you. The show opens after lunch. So we can shop tonight when it closes."

  Aunt Alfa grinned as she clasped her hands together. "Awesome news. Now I can get back to my new biz. This murder certainly brought things to a halt yesterday. 'Course, I can use my prediction about Veronica's death as advertising."

  I shot Tex a help-me-out expression. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  Tex sat on the couch. "Doc's right, Aunt Alfa. You shouldn't use that for marketing material. We'll come up with another angle."

  Aunt Alfa looked at us like we were nuts. "I have to use that. Lola's writing a testimony. He should be giving it to me today."

  I pondered my options. Guess I'd have to tell her.

  "The detective mentioned the death-nut prophecy this morning." I paused to give her time to process the news. "It makes you look suspicious." Might as well go for full disclosure. "Plus, someone got a video of you 'creaming' the taxicab, and that hasn't portrayed you in the best light."

  Aunt Alfa jumped to her feet. "Did I go viral, Pipe?"

  Oh, for the love of dark chocolate mousse. "She didn't say that, but she did ask about any potential anger issues along with the prophecy."

  Aunt Alfa shot me a grin and hustled to my laptop. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and a few seconds later, a happy shriek erupted from her lips. "Holy basil, Pipe. I've got over two hundred thousand hits."

  No wonder we couldn't get a cab with her now.

  Tex and I joined her at the table, and she eagerly played the footage. Last night's scene replayed on the screen, including when Aunt Alfa had ridiculed the cabbie's Ronald McDonald hairdo.

  A sick feeling spiraled inside. Did that remark constitute a hate crime? My aunt had only been in NYC less than 48 hours, and the charges were piling up.

  I couldn't let murder be the next charge.

  I nudged Tex. "Let's go talk to Ken." Then I looked at Aunt Alfa. "You get ready for the show and see what you can find out from other vendors. We'll join you later."

  "Sure thing, Pipe," Aunt Alfa said, watching the video again. Her smile was bigger this time. "Gee, I hope I can save this thing so I can show the people at the Sea Spray Bingo Parlor. Pops might want to see the footage too."