Hank laughed some more, then patted her hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” He looked over at me. “I’m not sure whether I’m insulted or impressed. Maybe insulted that it took you this long to realize I could be a suspect.”
Mindy let out a gasp. Paige’s mouth was hanging open, and Aunt Shirley was ignoring us, eating her mashed potatoes with gusto.
“You might just make a good reporter yet.” And with that Hank started shoving the food back into his mouth.
* * *
Mom, Paige, and Aunt Shirley left around the same time Hank and Mindy did. There were only a handful of family and friends left, most of us milling around were church members waiting to start the clean up. Mom had brought down my purse when she’d gotten her things and set it on the built-in bookshelves along one wall. Deciding it was time to change out of the shoes, I walked to the sparse bookshelf and retrieved my ballet slippers from my purse. Sliding my high-heeled shoes off, I picked them up and set them next to my purse.
I let out a little yell, jumping three feet in the air when a hand touched my arm. “Thank you for helping today, Ryli.”
I looked up at Pastor Williams and let out a shaky laugh. “Sorry, Pastor, you scared me. And it’s no problem,” the lie rolled off my tongue, “I’m glad to help.”
“I’ll just be glad when this day is over,” Pastor Williams growled. “We need to move on, get on with our lives.”
I glanced sharply at my preacher, taking in his bloodshot eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His usually perfect appearance was cracking under the pressure it seemed.
“I’m sure things’ll return to normal soon,” I said.
“They’d better!” Pastor Williams muttered as he turned on his heel and stomped away.
“Pay him no mind, dear,” Sharon said.
I jumped again.
Geez, what is it with this family. They could sneak up on ninjas!
I smiled at Sharon, hoping she didn’t notice my unease.
Patting me on the arm, she said, “He’s just still upset from Chief Kimball’s visit the other day.”
Wait…what?
Kimball had questioned the preacher? Was that where he’d been the other night when he came over in his uniform? If so, this must be serious.
Trying not to overplay my hand, I asked, “Oh, did he need to ask more questions about the Bible reference on the note left to me?”
Sharon’s eyes filled with tears. “No, he asked Pastor where he was the night Dr. Garver was killed! We told him the truth. Thursday night Pastor had an early dinner, watched TV for a little while, and then fell asleep in his recliner. I remember going into the living room and waking him up around ten o’clock to go to bed.”
“So he’d been in the living room sleeping all those hours, right?”
Confusion clouded Sharon’s face. “Well, I’m sure of it. I mean, I was in the sewing room working for those hours, but I’m sure I’d have heard him leave.”
Over the hum of a sewing machine? Doubtful.
I couldn’t help it…I needed to know. My heart beating wildly in my chest, I asked, “And how about the night Iris was murdered? Did Chief Kimball ask about that night?”
I saw anger flash in Sharon’s eyes before she could mask it. “We again told Chief Kimball,” she spat out Garrett’s name, “that if the murder happened like they’re thinking late Sunday night, we were at church. I mean, we have tons of people who saw us here.”
I couldn’t help but notice how she was including herself in her husband’s alibi. Like she was needing to protect him. If he wasn’t guilty, why would she feel compelled to emphasize she was with him all the time? “Is that what they think?” I asked. Garrett had never told me the exact time of death for Iris.
Sharon picked at her lace collar. “Well, they think it was around ten o’clock that night. But Pastor is so very tired when he comes home Sunday nights that he pretty much always goes straight to bed. I remember that night specifically. He didn’t even finish watching the TV program he had started. Poor thing was exhausted. I helped him into bed and shut our bedroom door.”
I had to admit I was stumped. It didn’t sound like Pastor Williams had anything to worry about, but then why would Garrett be questioning him?
* * *
We decided to start on the cleanup even though everyone hadn’t left yet. With only twenty or so family and friends left hanging around, Sharon asked Mr. Garver if it would be okay if the church ladies got started. He assured us it was and that they were leaving soon.
There was so much food left over, we decided to delve it up among us to take home. I was excited…by the looks of things, I’d be eating for days.
I looked around the enormous room to see who all was helping today. Usually the ladies on the cleanup committee did a rotation so the same person didn’t have to do the same thing every time. There were about ten women I knew personally, the other seven or eight I just knew by name.
We broke up into groups, and I found myself in the group that was breaking down the tables and stacking them on a large table dolly. Another group of ladies followed us, breaking down the chairs and stacking them on a large chair dolly. We continued in this rhythm for a while, stopping periodically to talk about the service or the upcoming Fall Festival on Saturday.
Cleanup only took twenty minutes with everyone pitching in. I was on the other side of the multi-purpose room, but I could see everyone was starting to get their stuff and leave. Hoping to grab my purse, some food, and slip out, I headed toward the bookshelf.
I was shocked when I saw Patty walking toward me carrying a plate of goodies. The only people milling around were family and friends, and she qualified as neither. “Ryli, I was just heading out. I was hoping I’d see you so I could say I’m sorry for the way I reacted, it was silly of me.”
“What’re you still doing here?” I blurted out.
She smiled at me as though I were a simpleton. “Oh, I was just upstairs looking at all the beautiful flowers. I dabble in horticulture, you know. I even have my own greenhouse full of flowers and herbs.”
“I didn’t know,” I said. Nor did I care if you really want to know.
“I came down here to go out the back way…and maybe see if any dessert was left,” she laughed hysterically. “Well, have a wonderful night dear. Enjoy the leftover food.”
I watched her walk out the door and turn toward her car. She had it right—time to grab my stuff and head out. A nice glass of wine with some leftovers, maybe a hot bubble bath...I’d love to soak my aching feet. Yes, it was going to be a good night. It would be a perfect night if I heard from Garrett.
I was shocked when I saw three plates heaped with food, wrapped in Saran Wrap, with my name on them. They were placed next to my shoes and purse. I looked around, hoping to see who’d set it there. I noticed a group of ladies by one of the kitchen islands. Gathering my stuff, I went to investigate.
“Ryli, dear, thank you for helping us out today,” Mrs. Johnson said. “It always goes faster when young people help out.”
I smiled at the group of elderly ladies. “No problem, glad to help.”
“Such a good girl, just like her mother,” Mrs. Evans said as she patted my arms loaded down full of my crap.
“Ummm…I’m wondering, who left the plate of food with my name on it over by the bookshelf?” I asked.
Mrs. Evans’s face scrunched up, thinking back. “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe Mrs. Nelson. Why, is there a problem?”
“Oh, no, no,” I shook my head quickly, hoping to dispel any anxiety. “I just wanted to thank them. I didn’t know anyone knew where my stuff was sitting.”
Mrs. Johnson giggled. “Ryli, those shoes aren’t to be missed. Everyone knew where your stuff was.”
I felt my face heat with her obvious explanation. Of course my fuck-me pumps would stand out in a room full of dried up lemons. I’m surprised they hadn’t started laying hands on me to expel my inner whore. “Well, thank her for me please.�
�
Mrs. Evans snickered. “She left a little while ago, but we will. You have a nice evening, Ryli.” The last part was said with a wide knowing grin on her face.
Oh brother! These women thought I was going home to Garrett. While that’s exactly what I was hoping would happen someday, I didn’t think it would be obvious to everyone else. I mumbled my goodbyes and practically sprinted out the church door.
Chapter 11
Glad to be home, I emptied my arms of my food and purse on the table. I walked down the hall and put my silver fuck-me pumps in the back of my closet. I didn’t want to see them for a long time. I was still embarrassed for having worn them.
I changed into yoga pants and a tank top and piled my hair on top of my head. Taking off my makeup, I felt more like myself. Deciding to heat up the rigatoni with marinara I saw on one of the plates, I portioned some of it on another plate to heat in the microwave. I smiled when I saw the tiny parsley on top…whoever had delved up my food had went out of her way to put an extra special touch on it.
I put the parsley on the table to eat later. Believe it or not, I love parsley. Taking the food out of the microwave, I then poured a glass of red wine. Hearing movement behind me, I saw Miss Molly snatch my parsley off the table.
“Hey, that’s mine!” I cried as I went to scoot her off the table and retrieve my parsley hanging from her mouth.
Miss Molly chewed on one of the leaves, breaking it off at the main stem. The rest of the parsley fell on the floor. She continued to chew as I snatched the fallen parsley off the floor.
“No more for you, you little scamp,” I said to her as I threw the rest of the parsley in the garbage. After I washed my hands, I picked up my plate and glass of wine and sat down at the table. Miss Molly was still eating the parsley, or at least I thought she was. It actually looked like she was trying to spit it out of her mouth. She finally succeeded.
Sighing, I got up from the table and picked up the half-chewed leaf.
“Serves you right for eating my parsley,” I laughed at her.
By the time I’d finished my meal and glass of wine, I was so full and tired from the long day I decided to skip the bubble bath and head straight to bed. It was still early, only eight o’clock, but I was exhausted.
I woke up to the sound of wheezing and hacking in my ear. Sitting straight up in bed, I knocked Miss Molly off my shoulder. Chuckling at how fast my heart was beating, I reached over to pet Molls.
“Hey, girl,” I said, “you scared me to death.” It took me a few seconds before I realized something was wrong. Her breathing was labored. Switching on the lamp, I grabbed Miss Molly. Saliva was leaking from her mouth, and the odor coming from her was putrid. I looked into her eyes and noticed they were dilated.
Screaming, I scooped her to my chest and ran to find my cell phone. In my delirium, I couldn’t remember if it was still in my purse or on the table. Sobbing and stumbling down the hall, I reached out to find the light switch.
Light flooded the living room, and I saw my phone on the table. My hands were shaking so badly, it took me two tries to find Garrett’s number and call him. I tried to calm my breathing as I waited for him to pick up, but I couldn’t seem to think clearly.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I heard myself chanting over and over.
“Hello…Ryli?” his sleepy voice asked, “I must’ve fallen asleep. I was going to call but—”
He must have heard my sobbing.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett demanded, sounding suddenly alert. “Take a breath and relax. What is it?”
Taking a deep breath I told him about Miss Molly, about her labored breathing, dilated pupils, vile breath, and how she couldn’t stop shaking.
“Miss Molly? Your cat?” he asked. I heard the exasperation even though he tried to hide it.
“Yes!” I screamed at him over the phone.
“Okay. Hold on, I’m coming over. Call Doc Powell. It’s a little after ten, but it sounds serious.”
I glanced up at the kitchen clock and saw he was right. It was pretty late, but I knew something was seriously wrong. I hung up and grabbed a cardigan to throw over my yoga pants and tank top. Sitting down on the couch, I continued to hug Miss Molly, rocking her gently as I sang to her. I knew I should pick up the phone and call Doc, but I was terrified to let Miss Molly go. I could swear the shaking was turning into seizures.
Praying Garrett would hurry, I got up and unlocked the door. Grabbing my cell phone I found Doc’s number and hit the green telephone. Continuing to pace, I cooed to Miss Molly, telling her it would be okay, help was coming.
“Doc speaking.”
At the sound of his voice I started to sob again. I knew I had to get a hold of myself, but I couldn’t help it. The thought of Miss Molly dying was making my heart ache in a way I didn’t know was possible.
“Hello? Ryli? Your name came up on my caller ID, are you there?”
“Yes,” I managed to whisper. “Doc, something’s wrong with Miss Molly.”
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“Everything was fine up until the time I went to bed, but then I woke up with her panting in my ear, her breath stinks, she’s shaking, her eyes are dilated. I think she’s almost having seizures, and her breathing keeps getting worse.”
Doc was silent for a moment. “I know she’s a house cat, but has she been outside on accident? Anything like that?”
I thought for a second, begging my brain to work. “No, no. She’s always inside.”
Again, Doc was silent. I wanted to scream at him to do something, but I knew it wasn’t his fault. Feeling Miss Molly seizing again, I cried, “Please, Doc, she’s having another tiny seizure.”
“Did she eat anything poisonous? I’d think mushrooms if she’d been outside. It almost sounds like poison.”
Poison! Where the hell would she get poison? I didn’t have any rat poison or antifreeze anywhere in the house. I purposely didn’t keep anything like that because of Miss Molly. I even got rid of my houseplants because I’d catch her nibbling on them when I first got her.
“Ryli. Hey, Ryli,” I guess Doc had been saying my name for a few seconds, but I was so distraught I didn’t hear him. “What about a houseplant or something like that?”
“No, I don’t keep anything green because I know she’ll eat…” my voice trailed off.
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
“Would parsley cause this?” I asked. “There was some parsley on the leftover pasta from the memorial service that I ate tonight. I took it off and set it on the table. When I turned my back she’d gotten a hold of it and only ate one leaf. Well, actually she spat that out now that I think about it. But she did eat some of the parsley.”
Doc Powell was silent. Again I had to count to ten so I wouldn’t scream at him. Finally I heard him say, “Ryli, did you eat any of the plant. It’s important you tell me.”
The seriousness in Doc’s voice had me almost peeing my pants. Now I was downright scared shitless. “No, like I said, Miss Molly grabbed a hold of it and tried to eat one of the leaves. Most of the parsley fell to the floor so I threw it away.”
The pounding on the door startled me and I let out a yelp. Miss Molly tried to lift her head off my shoulder and meow. It was so pitiful I started crying again.
“Ryli, open up!” I heard Garrett shout.
“It’s open!” I yelled.
“Is someone there?” Doc asked.
I watched as Garrett barged through the door, slamming it shut behind him. “Garrett’s here. I called him to come over. I’m so scared.”
“Listen to me, Ryli. Put me on speakerphone, please. Garrett needs to hear this.”
Trembling, I took the phone away from my ear and pushed the speaker button with my thumb. I then handed the phone to Garrett so I could cradle Miss Molly with both arms.
“Doc, it’s me, Kimble. What’s going on?”
Doc cleared his throat. “Chief Kimble, I think Miss Molly has been poisoned.
I can’t imagine parsley doing this, but I guess it’s possible. It’s imperative you get out here now. I’ll start getting the medications and IV set up. You just get out to my place as fast as you can. If there’s any of the plant left, please bring it. But don’t touch it. Sometimes oils from poisonous plants can contaminate the skin.”
Garrett’s face was like stone. I couldn’t read anything. “Got it. Be there in five.”
With that he hung up and demanded, “Where’s this plant Doc’s talking about?”
I pointed to the trashcan and watched silently as he flipped up the lid and looked inside. Reaching over and grabbing a handful of napkins, he grabbed the parsley I’d thrown away. Without saying anything, he put it in his jacket and pushed me out the door, locking up behind him. He didn’t say anything until we were in the police-issued suburban.
“Where did you get this parsley?” he asked quietly.
The fact he was so calm scared me to death. I continued stroking Miss Molly, her soft mewing was making my heart hurt like nothing I’d ever felt. “The church. It was on one of the leftover plates that I took home.”
“Did you dish out the food, or did someone else?”
I thought back in my foggy haze and started sobbing again. I’d done this to Miss Molly. I’d poisoned my own cat.
“Ryli, I need you to focus. Did you dish it out or someone else?”
“Someone else. I found the food sitting near my purse and shoes. I asked some of the ladies who did it, who had dished out my food. They thought it was Mrs. Nelson.” I turned to look at Garrett. “The thing is, Mrs. Nelson is about eighty years old. There’s no way she poisoned me on purpose, or killed Dr. Garver, or even Iris.”
Garrett still didn’t say anything. His eyes were on the road, but the lights from the dashboard illuminated his face, and I could see a tic in the side of his cheek.
“Was this the only piece of parsley, or is there more on the other plates.”
Seeing the plates of food in my head, I was pretty sure this was the only piece. “I can’t be one hundred percent certain without checking again, but I’m pretty sure this was the only piece.” I wasn’t sure if now was the time to say anything about my suspicions, but I figured it was now or never. “Since I knew the drug was ketamine, I thought I could narrow it down to Dr. Powell, Patty Carter, and a couple other people in the medical field.”
Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1) Page 16