Nightshade for Warning

by Bailey Cattrell

  His response was a stony look.

  “You know I’m right.”

  The tiniest, teensiest nod. “You might be.”

  You could have knocked me over with a feather. Until, that is, he leaned down and got in my face. “But don’t you ever accuse me of not doing my job again, Allbright.”

  It was my turn to nod. “Fair enough.”

  He turned and walked away without another word. I stared after him until the door shut behind him, then looked over at Maggie. Her eyes were wide.

  Grabbing my plate, I bused it back through the door to the kitchen. Raleigh was by himself, rubbing dry spices into a huge brisket.

  “Ellie!”

  “Raleigh, you’ve done it again. Love the mole.”

  “Already running low,” he said. “Glad you got some before it’s gone.”

  I rinsed my dish and asked over my shoulder, “Is Harris in his office?”

  Raleigh nodded toward the door. It was shut, but I was pretty sure my ex could hear me. I went over and knocked.

  “Yeah, come in.”

  I twisted the knob, walked in, and closed the door behind me.

  My former office seemed more coated with dust every time I went into it. The Venetian blinds were gray by now, and the poor plant in the corner had gone to philodendron heaven. The room smelled of coffee dregs and hair gel.

  Harris looked up from his desk. His dark hair curled down over his forehead, and his sneering lips gave him the slightest resemblance to Elvis Presley.

  “What do you want, Ellie?”

  I would have been offended if that wasn’t his usual greeting. Now I just took it in stride. Taking a seat in the chair opposite him, I said, “Tell me about buying Joyous Sontag’s land.”

  Surprise flitted across his face before he could tame it. “Not really any of your business, is it?”

  “You know better than that.”

  “Any investments I make are my own. We don’t share finances any longer.” His lip curled. “You made sure of that.”

  Stunningly, Harris still blamed me for our divorce.

  “It’s my business if someone interested in that property had to kill Blake Sontag to make sure it stays on the market.”

  The blood drained from his face, then returned with a vengeance. “You’re accusing me of murder?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t think Harris had it in him, but he didn’t have to know that. “Someone did it, and it wasn’t the suspect Max Lang jumped at before gathering all the evidence.” I leaned forward. “You have some of that evidence, though. Don’t you?”

  Spots of outraged indignation mottled his cheeks. “Of course not.”

  “You know, it’s also my business, though only morally, if you are putting this restaurant—and my friends’ jobs—in jeopardy in order to afford that parcel of land.” I was watching him carefully. Then I shook my head. “No, you love this place too much. You haven’t mortgaged it.”

  “No.”

  Ah, but there was something in his eyes.

  “Joyous already told me you looked at the property. So how were you thinking you’d swing it financially?”

  He looked away. “It’s just a possibility. God, Ellie. I’m open to opportunity, is all. Just like my partners.”

  “Uh-huh. Vaughn Newton?”

  He threw up his hands. “Yes! Okay, yes. That’s the guy. Real estate investor from Houston. Wants to develop the place.”

  “And the water rights? What about those?”

  Harris shrugged, but he had a nasty grin on his face. “There are a lot of untapped natural resources around here.”

  Idiot.

  “Wait, you said partners.” Joyous mentioned that Harris and Vaughn were interested in buying. “Who else?”

  “A silent partner.” That grin again.

  “Who is it?”

  “Ellie, do you know what ‘silent partner’ means? In the business world it means someone who invests in a business endeavor but isn’t part of the day-to-day running of it. It’s someone who is, as you might expect, silent. And in this case, secret.”

  I found myself growing angrier with every word that came out of his mouth. “Listen, Harris. I have had a really weird day. Make that days. A man has been killed, your overbearing cop friend wants to arrest my little brother’s girlfriend for murder, and my best friend is lying on my sofa in a lot of pain with her shoulder in a sling. The last thing I need from you is a mansplanation of what a silent partner is.” I stood and leaned across the desk on my hands so that my face was nearly in his.

  He pulled back.

  “Now tell me: Who is your silent partner?” I demanded.

  His eyes narrowed as we stared each other down. Then he smirked. “Fine. But it’s on you when she finds out I told you.”

  I felt myself start to frown, but forced a poker face. “She who?”

  “Cynthia Beck.”

  Well, that took the wind right out of my sails.

  On the other hand, it narrowed the field of suspects. The mysterious Vaughn Newton was looking better and better.

  • • •

  OUTSIDE, the clouds scudded across the sky and the temperature had dropped. I looked upward, trying to judge if it was going to rain. The Wrangler had been doused plenty of times, and I had a dash cover to protect the fussy electronic bits, but I didn’t relish getting soaked. I might have time to get the soft top on if I hurried home.

  My phone rang as I stepped on the running board. It was Lupe. “Someone reported a black SUV careening down a street in Agate Park.”

  My stomach did a flip-flop around Raleigh’s lovely mole sauce.

  Agate Park.

  “Joyous?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  I really didn’t want my new relative to end up being a murderer, but it was still a possibility. Starting the engine, I said, “I’ll meet you there.”

  “No! Ellie, wait—”

  I hung up and tromped on the accelerator.

  CHAPTER 23

  I ENTERED the neighborhood and turned toward Joyous’ house. A block away, Lupe stepped out from behind her Taurus and flagged me down. When I stopped, she climbed into the passenger side.

  “Ellie, you need to go home.”

  I shook my head.

  “I know you want to clear Larken Meadows’ name, but I’m on your side. I’ll handle it.”

  “Lupe, someone tried to kill me, and they hurt my friend. It’s personal now. I’m not going home.”

  We locked eyes for what seemed like a long time before her head inclined an infinitesimal amount. “Let’s just check out the neighborhood first, okay? I want to make sure we’re not jumping the gun.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then if we find the Cadillac, I’ll call for backup.”

  Again, I agreed. “Can you drive?”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Of course.”

  I pulled into a parking spot and put on the dash cover. The wind had picked up, and leaves were eddying against the curbs as the trees stretched and shifted their limbs in the moving air. When I was satisfied the dash of the Wrangler wouldn’t get wet, I grabbed my purse and got out. It took me about four times as long as it should have for me to exit my vehicle.

  Lupe looked on with a skeptical eye. “I think you should go home and join Astrid on the sofa.”

  “Funny,” I said, and got into her car.

  We drove around for a while. Up and down each street, peering into driveways and noting cars on the street. Unfortunately, there weren’t very many of those. Agate Park was a neighborhood where people took their vehicles to the car wash every week and then parked them safe inside their garages.

  “There’s an alley,” I said.

  Lupe turned and maneuvered down the passage between backyards. We did
n’t see the black SUV, though. A block later, she turned down another.

  “You know where we need to go,” I said.

  She gave me a sideways look.

  I sighed. “Sorry. I’m a little cranky.”

  “Did Doc Scott give you any pain pills?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you take any?”

  “Not yet. I want to keep a clear head.”

  Her chin dipped. “I get it. But Ellie, do you really think I don’t know where the murder victim’s sister lives? I’m just covering all our bases.” She grinned at me then. “Which I’ve done. Let’s check out her place.”

  She turned down another alley and stopped by a back fence. “This is it. Come on.”

  We got out and quietly shut the doors on the Taurus. I was torn, but that didn’t matter. The truth was the truth, even if Joyous was my cousin. After all, Blake had been, too.

  The sky rumbled overhead as we sidled down the alley to the wooden garage. Lupe peered around the corner, then nodded back at me and edged around it.

  I felt like I was on a military mission.

  We reached the front of the garage and stood in the driveway looking back at it. There were no windows on the side or front of the building. Turning, I gazed up at the white curtains on the second floor of Joyous’ house. I knew from experience you could look through them without anyone seeing in.

  Was she watching us?

  Lupe tried to lift the garage door, but it was locked.

  “Come on,” Lupe whispered. “I want to look in the backyard.”

  “It’s just a vegetable garden,” I said. “There’s no place for a car back there.” Then I looked down the side of the garage we hadn’t sneaked around.

  “Look.” I pointed.

  The side door was slightly ajar.

  Lupe walked down to take a look. Relieved that we didn’t have to act like something out of a Law & Order rerun, I followed. I was right on her heels as she pushed the door open a little farther and slipped inside.

  The Escalade took up the whole space. There was barely enough room for us to scoot around the outside of it. Max would have been too big to fit, I thought uncharitably. When we got to the right side, I saw the crumpled front panel and torn fender.

  This was definitely the vehicle that had hit the pickup on Corona.

  And had nearly sent Astrid and me to the next world.

  Anger flared deep underneath my sternum, and I turned back toward the house even though I couldn’t see it through the wooden garage wall.

  “Time to call in the cavalry?” I asked Lupe.

  “Yep,” she said, and sidestepped out of the garage with her cell phone in hand.

  I started to follow, but then I smelled it and paused. Where was it coming from?

  There. The scent wafted, ever so faintly but ever so recognizably, from the open window of the Escalade.

  Chanel No. 5.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I opened the door and climbed in. It was entirely possible I was contaminating a crime scene, but I had to be sure.

  Yes. Subtle but distinct. Recent.

  The one and only perfume Cynthia Beck ever wore.

  I closed my eyes and tried to think. Lots of people wore that perfume. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands, if not more.

  But not in Poppyville, and not in Blake Sontag’s missing vehicle.

  Unless she was in it the night we all had dinner together in the Empire Room!

  For a moment, relief whooshed through me.

  Then I remembered Cynthia coming down the steps of the Hotel California that night and unlocking her silver Lexus with her key fob. She’d driven herself to dinner that night.

  And I pictured her running her finger down Blake’s arm as I watched from across the lobby. The whisper in his ear that made him smile. Had she been making plans to come back later?

  I felt a little sick as I thought about Cynthia’s motive to kill Blake Sontag. Harris had told me less than an hour ago that she was his silent partner, and I’d been going on and on in his office about anyone interested in the Sontag property being a possible suspect.

  I’d completely discounted Cynthia as a killer. But now I thought about the mercenary look she got when she talked about money, about how her whole life seemed to revolve around it. Did she even have friends that weren’t in her women’s marketing group?

  I thought that was all state park, she’d said when I told her about the thirty acres of Sontag land.

  Real estate really isn’t my bailiwick, she’d said.

  She’d lied.

  And just that morning I’d told her I was interested in justice, not a quick fix. Perhaps she’d been counting on Max arresting his “suspect,” but I was the fly in the ointment.

  Had Cynthia actually tried to kill me? It was easier to believe than I liked.

  “What are you doing?” Lupe hissed from the doorway.

  I got out of the Cadillac. “Joyous didn’t kill her brother, and she didn’t try to run me down on Corona Street this afternoon.”

  Lupe frowned. “What are you talking about? Why else would Blake’s SUV be in her garage?”

  I was searching for an answer when we heard a scream from inside the house.

  We took off at a run.

  Lupe veered toward the front yard, but I opened the back gate Joyous had led me through. Was that just this morning? So much had happened. I passed the raised beds, where the sun shade over the greens rippled in the wind. Trying to see through the curtains, I hurried to the back door that led to the kitchen, and gave the knob a twist.

  It was unlocked. Slowly, I pushed it open.

  The high-pitched squeal of unoiled hinges broke the silence. Swearing under my breath, I opened the door with a silent jerk and stood on the threshold.

  “What was that?” came Cynthia’s voice from the living room.

  “I don’t know.” Joyous sounded terrified.

  “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

  Crossing quickly, I saw them both sitting in the living room. Cynthia held something shiny in her hand.

  A gun.

  My blood chilled.

  She was coming to her feet when I stepped out of the kitchen. She startled and quickly held the gun behind her back as she sat back down.

  “It’s just me, Joyous,” I said casually. “I think I left my scarf here this morn . . . Oh! Hi, Cynthia.”

  She looked utterly confused.

  They were sitting side by side on Joyous’ tan sofa. There was a steaming cup of tea on the low table in front of my cousin, along with a single sheet of paper and a fountain pen.

  I gave a little laugh. “I swear, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.” I snagged Joyous’ gaze. “Have you seen it?”

  “Uh.”

  “The scarf. It was blue, with those little yellow sparkles?” I’d never owned a scarf with any color of sparkles.

  “Oh!” She looked at Cynthia, then at me. Her eyes grew bigger. “That scarf. No, I haven’t seen it.”

  Over their shoulders, I saw movement through the curtains.

  Lupe.

  “I wonder if I left it out front,” I said and walked past them to the door. “Maybe I took it off when we were looking at that yucca. I’m helping Joyous with her garden,” I said to Cynthia.

  “Hold it,” she said.

  I arranged a puzzled frown on my face and kept reaching for the door handle. “What’s the matter?”

  She leaped to her feet. “Stop right there, Ellie.” Her lips twisted, and she raised her hand toward me. It held the gun. The small revolver should have appealed to my fondness for miniatures, but despite its pink pearl grip that was nearly eclipsed by her pink pearl–tipped fingers, I didn’t care for it one little bit.

  I stopped right there. “Go
sh, Cynthia. What are you doing with that?”

  “Who’s out there?” she demanded.

  “No one.” I gave a half shrug.

  “How stupid do you think I am? You heard Joyous scream, didn’t you?” She shook her head. “You give someone a little push and they get all hysterical.”

  Eyeing the gun, I shook my head. “I really don’t know how stupid you are.”

  Cynthia sneered.

  “But you must be stupid if you think you’re going to get away with this.”

  Her lips pressed together in anger. “Why do you have to stick your nose into everything, Ellie? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be free and clear. Now I have to figure out what to do with you, too.”

  I looked at Joyous. “What do you mean, ‘you, too.’”

  “She brewed up some more of that tea,” my cousin said in a shaky voice. “She said she was going to make me drink it.”

  I hadn’t thought I had any more adrenaline left in my body, but it turned out I did. “Did you? Drink it, I mean?”

  She shook her head, and my shoulders slumped in relief. “I haven’t written my suicide note yet.”

  It clicked together. “Right,” I said slowly. “You write a note that admits you killed your brother, then kill yourself using the same poison because you feel so guilty.”

  Cynthia gave a satisfied nod. “Pretty good, huh? I mean, as long as you alerted the cops to the fact that it was a plant poison that killed Blake, I might as well use that.”

  “They would have figured that out anyway,” I said. “You said you’d be free and clear, but they’d know.”

  She smirked. “Actually, they wouldn’t have. See, unless they have something to specifically test for in an autopsy, it’s very difficult to narrow down plant poisons.”

  I stared at her. “You did a lot of homework, didn’t you?”

  “Something like that.” She took a deep breath.

  Moving cautiously, I sat on one of the chairs across from Joyous. Cynthia moved as if to stop me, but I was already seated by the time she’d made up her mind.

  I thought I heard the tiniest squeal from the direction of the kitchen. “You killed Blake so Joyous would put their land back on the market, right?” I asked loudly, hoping to cover any noise Lupe might make as she entered the house.