Prelude to Poison

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Prelude to Poison Page 15

by Morgan W. Silver


  Nick and Alistair looked at each other for a moment, then Nick turned to me and raised his eyebrows.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you soon.” Nick leaned over the table and gave me a kiss on the lips, warming my cheeks. I was too shy to look over at Alistair.

  “Bye,” Eddie said and gave me a hug.

  Alistair got up to pull back my chair, and we left the pub just in time for the crowd that had been staring at the hotel to come in. They’d be gossiping all night.

  It was darker now and Alistair put a hand on my lower back as he escorted me back to my flat. I didn’t mind. In fact, I kind of liked the comfort it brought. There was no point in hanging on to any anger, even if I did have to decide what I wanted from him. Did I want to be friends? To be ignored? What was my plan?

  The idea of not talking to him made me uneasy. I liked him too much, even after what he did.

  “I’m sorry about my behaviour,” Alistair said. “I hope one day you can forgive me, though if you can’t, I don’t blame you.”

  “I just need some time.” We stopped at the back of my shop. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I was just surprised by what you made me feel, and I wanted to keep that feeling. It was selfish and cowardly. Obviously I have some figuring out to do.”

  I was too afraid to ask him if he really liked me or just the idea of me, so instead I smiled at him. “I also think you should talk to Patricia.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I found the mushrooms in her shed. Also, Beth said something that made me think she’d overheard something, and I know Patricia visited her on Sundays for a while.”

  “Beth? Beth is still alive?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “How old is she?”

  “Hundred-and-two and kicking.”

  “Wow, impressive. But let’s circle back to the mushrooms in the shed. You broke in?”

  “No, it was open. Before that I broke into her house, though.”

  Alistair’s eyes widened.

  “I found a DVD that was used to make it appear as if the hotel was haunted. I know it’s circumstantial, but I figured I might as well mention everything now.” And let’s hope he doesn’t arrest me.

  “He won’t,” Detective Black said.

  Alistair sighed. “That was dangerous.”

  “Nick was on the lookout.”

  “So Nick is your partner in crime now?” he asked.

  “Problem with that?” I folded my arms and stared him down.

  His shoulders tensed. “I appreciate you telling me, but you have to be careful with these things. If someone reported you, you could have been arrested. You do realise I have to do what my boss says, right?”

  “Your boss who used to be buddies with Victor and who is still chummy with Patricia, you mean?”

  Alistair bit his bottom lip. “I know, that bothers me too. But even if he wasn’t friends with her, we still need evidence. We’re the police, that’s how it works. We can’t just go around accusing people and hope for the best.”

  “I realise that, so perhaps we can work together. I just gave you a tip about Patricia’s shed, maybe you can check it out?”

  Alistair stared at me. “Perhaps. Just keep me posted, okay? Don’t do things on your own. Or with Nick.”

  I smiled. “But he’s such a good kisser.”

  He made a face as if he smelt something foul, then adapted a more neutral expression. “I’m going to go now.”

  “Uh-uh.” His heels clicked on the cobbled street as he moved farther away from me.

  As much as I didn’t want it to be true, he still did something to me.

  “Maybe the Pembroke isn’t cursed,” Detective Black said. “Maybe your love life is.”

  THAT NIGHT WAS THE first night I slept well. Knowing that Alistair was listening to me, made me feel like I could breathe a bit. He was on it, and I could enjoy the feeling that I had helped. I didn’t have to do everything alone, nor did I have to prove myself to anyone.

  I spent the morning writing and doing some household chores. With my attention on the murder I had neglected my flat a bit, and the dust bunnies were almost becoming actual bunnies, with a similar reproduction rate.

  Before lunchtime I went downstairs and chatted with Nancy briefly before returning to my shop. Christina was working hard and had been looking up information on a few new books, doing her best to pitch them to customers, so they’d buy them. I appreciated her proactive attitude and wondered what I would do when Susan returned. If she returned. It was entirely possible that she didn’t want to stay here anymore. She had moved to this village only three years ago, and I could imagine that she would want a fresh start.

  Christina clearly wanted to be my friend regardless, and I decided that would be good. It would help me get over Alistair, and I wanted to be friends with him.

  “Good luck with that,” Detective Black said.

  “Hello, pretty lady,” Nick said as he came in with a bouquet of wildflowers.

  I beamed at him. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

  “Do you want to have lunch?”

  “I would love to. Why don’t we go upstairs, and I’ll make us a sandwich.” I headed through the back and up the stairs to my flat while Nick followed.

  “Are you feeling better? The fire was quite a shock, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I just didn’t see it coming. I also feel a bit guilty,” I said as we went into the kitchen where I put the flowers in a vase.

  “Why? You weren’t responsible for this.” He frowned.

  “I can’t help but think that our visit was the reason for the fire, even if it might as well just be an accident.” I really hoped that was true. It would be so much simpler if it was.

  Nick touched my cheek. “Don’t think like that. You are not responsible for other people’s actions.”

  I smiled. “What kind of sandwich would you like?”

  “Anything you can make is fine.”

  “So a sandwich with soap and carrots?”

  Nick chuckled.

  “Or a sandwich with post-its?”

  Nick grabbed me and nuzzled my neck. “You think you’re funny, huh?” He started kissing me.

  I laughed and started tickling him. I could get used to this, which is also why I was scared. In the past there had always been something that went wrong, and I didn’t want that to be true now. The worst thing I could think of was that he was in cahoots with the killer, or that he had a family back home. It was what my mind always did, and it took me considerable effort to keep those dark thoughts away.

  “Okay, you win,” Nick said and held up his hands in defeat. “You are an excellent tickler.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  We had our lunch on the sofa instead of at the breakfast table, and the more time I spent with Nick, the more I realised I didn’t want him to go back home. He made me laugh, and he was a good kisser. It also didn’t hurt that he was handsome.

  After our lunch I showed Nick the blueprints of the hotel and told him in more detail what had happened that night I broke into Mr Field’s office. I left out the parts with Alistair in it. Even if the two deaths were in Alistair’s hands for now, I still wanted to share this particular puzzle with him. It was fascinating, though creepy.

  “See, this indicates that you have to twist the wooden markings on the side of the fireplace and it will open one of the rooms.” I refused to call it a death trap, which is what it really was, but I didn’t want to spoil the mood.

  “You’re discussing the layout of a murder house,” Detective Black said, rolling his eyes. “Why can’t you just make out with him like a normal person?”

  I ignored him and showed Nick a few more examples of what I had uncovered.

  “Wow, this is so interesting. Knowing the history of that place, I’m surprised there aren’t any ghosts.”

  “Not that m
any people died there, actually, and my aunt is good at cleansing places. She probably scared the ghosts away,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Yes, I have heard that she can be quite intimidating.”

  “Definitely, but she’s a softy on the inside. I think.”

  Nick laughed and pulled me close. “I’m glad you had someone like her looking after you.”

  This time I kissed him, and I didn’t stop for a long time.

  Chapter 19

  I visited Beth the next morning with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. When I entered her living room, she was in a good mood herself and was even dusting the shelves with porcelain figurines of kittens.

  “Hi, Mags,” she said in a chipper voice.

  How I loved those moments when she was herself. She had always been a lovely woman, and it was difficult to watch her confuse reality the way she did.

  She kissed my cheek and then went into the kitchen to make me some tea. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I said as I followed her. “I’ve been dating someone.”

  “You have? Who?”

  “Nick. He’s one of the ghost hunters that came to check out the hotel,” I said.

  “Ghost hunters, right. I’ve heard about that from Eleanor. It wouldn’t be my kind of job, but it’s good that nobody wants the same thing. That would be boring and pointless.” She grabbed my arm. “And poor Mr Field.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I know.”

  “Mrs Field must be terribly upset. She’s probably not coming back to the village, and after she tried so hard to fit in.”

  “How so?”

  “She came here a few Sundays along with Patricia and her friends. We played bridge.”

  My eyes widened. “You did?”

  “Oh, yes. They were complaining about their husbands and making awful jokes.”

  “What kind of jokes?”

  “Patricia made a joke about poisoning her husband. Terrible timing. She must regret those words more than anything.” Beth continued making the tea and then handed me my mug.

  “Now, tell me all about Nick, dear.”

  WHEN I ENTERED THROUGH the shop, Christina approached me. “There were two women here looking for your advice. They were very upset about something, and they nearly fought each other. I was very wrong about village life. It’s not boring at all.”

  “Did you get their names?”

  “Yeah, Phoebe and Jessica. They are apparently part of the book club.”

  “They’re also neighbours, so I’m guessing they took this fight to their front garden. They love each other, but somehow they also end up fighting over things they both want. Thanks for letting me know. You’re doing really well.”

  She lit up like a bonfire on a dark night. “Thanks, Mags.”

  We were at the nickname phase already.

  “Before you know it you’ll be besties, and Alistair and Christina will name their baby after you.” Detective Black walked next to me.

  I grunted.

  Ten minutes later I was staring at the thatched cottages belonging to Phoebe and Jessica. They were both in their late forties and both single. Jessica had never married, and Phoebe had lost her husband a few years back. They were both opposites on the outside and quite alike on the inside. Jessica was short and wide and Phoebe long and thin. They were excitable, sweet women, but they were also stubborn and liked to get their own way. They had both protested with self-made signs when the supermarket stopped selling their favourite brand of chocolate.

  “I’m going on a date with him,” Phoebe shouted over the neatly trimmed hedge. “Why would he want you?”

  “Why would he go on a date with me if he didn’t want me, you trollop?” Jessica shouted back.

  Phoebe produced a toilet roll, seemingly out of nowhere, and threw it at Jessica.

  “How dare you?” Jessica picked up a spade, and this was my cue.

  “Ladies,” I said, doing my best to imitate Eleanor when she was disappointed. A disappointed Eleanor was always worse than an angry Eleanor. “Why are you behaving like petulant children?”

  The ladies stared at me and then erupted in a stream of verbal narration that ended up in a shouting match. I had caught enough to know that this was to do with a man they both met on an online dating website. “Wait, wait,” I said, and they stopped. “This guy has a date with both of you?”

  This again turned into a shouting match.

  “Silence!” I held up my hand. “One person at a time. Phoebe.”

  Phoebe shot Jessica a smug look. “His name is Philippe, and we hit it off online. We’ve been texting back and forth and finally decided to go on a date. I told Jessica here, and she said she’s also going on a date with a Philippe. When she showed me his picture, it turned out to be the same guy. It’s not right, and I talked to him first.” She stomped her foot for emphasis, crushing a daisy.

  “Is this true, Jessica?”

  She nodded. “But he likes me a lot. He asked me out very quickly, and I think that means we have a special connection. Phoebe should cancel her date.”

  “No, Jessica should.”

  “Do you both like him that much, even when he’s agreed to dates with both of you?”

  “Yes,” they said simultaneously.

  If he did end up with one of them, it would be bad. It would mean war. The moment he chose one of them over the other, there would be no recovery. Best would be if they both cancelled their dates, but they were stubborn, and it would mean admitting defeat. They were not likely to do that. Ever.

  “Can I see a picture of this Philippe?” I said and held out my hand.

  Phoebe was quicker, and she handed me her phone. I looked at the screen. The man was handsome and had a good set of hair and fake teeth. He seemed like he loved himself more than he ever would any woman. I gasped. “Hey, I know this guy.”

  “Really?” Phoebe asked and both women inched closer.

  “Yeah. He used to date Nelly,” I said, deciding that mentioning a name of someone who had moved away years ago was safer than someone they could actually confirm the story with. “He gave her and the other women he dated a nasty STD. I can’t remember which one. Syphilis? Gonorrhea? Anyway, it didn’t look pretty.” I paused and stared at them. “He’s got nice teeth, though.”

  They looked at each other and then back at me. Phoebe snatched her phone back.

  “You know what? Being the generous woman that I am,” Jessica said, “why don’t you go on a date with him?”

  “No. I’m the generous one, you go on a date with him.”

  “Ladies,” I growled, before more toilet paper would be thrown, “you are both generous. Now go back inside and find someone else to date. Preferably not the same guy.”

  They nodded their heads at this.

  “Phoebe. Clean up that toilet paper before you go. Jessica, go inside.”

  The women did as they were told.

  Once Phoebe had gone back inside, I left. It was ridiculous to fight over the same man. This was also a good reminder that I should forget about Alistair. I stopped walking. Susan had reacted very angry when she thought I had an affair with Victor, even though he was already married. How would Mrs Fields have reacted? What if her husband was spying on him, and realised he was having an affair with Susan? What if he told her in order to win her back?

  I took out my phone and texted this to Alistair. Instead of mulling things over obsessively, it was better to leave the info with Alistair so he could actually do something with it. I was done trying to impress anyone. I just wanted the truth to come out.

  I WAS SIPPING MY CUP of tea, forcing Detective Black to enter an abandoned church where the killer was waiting, when my phone rang. This afternoon had been productive, so I didn’t like the intrusion and contemplated not answering. But it was possible that it was important. I finished typing my sentence and checked the screen. It was Mrs Field.

  My throat felt dry. What could she possibly want? There was only one way
to find out.

  “Maggie here,” I said.

  “Do you know the street behind the vicarage with the red phone booth?” she whispered.

  I paused. “Yes.”

  “Meet me there right now, and I’ll tell you about the real killer.”

  “Oh, no. When that happens in a novel someone always dies. Tell me who it is now and then elaborate when I get there. Or better yet, go inside the vicarage and stay with Eleanor.”

  Pause.

  “Hello?” She had hung up. “Damn it.”

  “People are so foolish,” Detective Black said.

  “I know.” I kicked back my chair and rushed downstairs.

  Christina was near the back door, restocking a few books. “Hey, Ma—”

  “Street behind vicarage. Mrs Field. Alistair,” I said to her and then ran out of the bookstore. People stared at me as I passed them, and I couldn’t blame them. They hadn’t seen me run since I was fourteen.

  I was out of breath three times and had to stop before going on. At some point Pandora ran past me, and I swear she was chuckling. When I arrived at the street behind the vicarage, I was sweating and panting. A blue Fiat was parked in the street. With trepidation I approached the car. Instead of slowing down, my heartbeat only increased, and I prayed that all would be well. This wasn’t a novel, so of course she would be fine. My imagination was just messing with me. She’d be in her car waiting, and within a few minutes I would know who the killer was.

  I reached her car and tapped on her window. She was slumped forward. “Okay, not a good sign,” I said with a quiver in my voice. “Maybe she’s taking a nap.”

  “Sure, and guns are just elaborate firecrackers,” Detective Black said.

  Pandora screeched behind me, and I yelled out in surprise. “Evil,” I said and made a cross at her with my fingers.

  She screeched again, but remained where she was.

  Just then Alistair turned the corner in a run. He didn’t have a hair out of place. Naturally.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “Mrs Field messaged me to meet her here and—” my voice trailed off, and I stepped aside. “She is slumped forward. I knocked, but she didn’t respond.”

 

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