Poison Ivy

by Misty Simon

  “Good,” I said, as I pulled the trash bag from behind my back and dropped it on the floor in front of me. “Care to take that minute and explain this to me, then?”

  His face blanched a truly pasty white, and his head dropped down. I waited impatiently for him to implicate himself and his mother, and maybe even Jackie, in this whole mess. In the meantime, my temper was really starting to boil. Images of me standing in the cold wind last night watching that raccoon walk away with my merchandise on his head made me hotter under the collar. How dare they?

  Then Charlie started talking. “I’m really sorry, Ivy.” Guilt and shame washed across his face, but there was a hint of something more. Something very close to calculation. “I took the lingerie, and I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough. I can’t return most of the stuff I took, but I did it alone and by myself. No help from anyone, and I made the decision solo. I wanted underwear, so I took underwear. Sorry. So, uh, are you going to call the police now?”

  The look of careful calculation hadn’t left his eyes yet, and it was now accompanied by an almost smile. Not a smarmy smile, like “ha-ha, I got you,” more like “ah-ha, I’ve found a way out.” I also noticed there was no mention of the mom-factor. He was totally taking the blame on himself, and I couldn’t prove he hadn’t acted alone; it would be my word against his. Should I leave Kitty out of it and deal with her on my own in another way?

  “You want me to call the police?” I asked, then quickly backpedaled. “Of course, I’m going to call the police. Right now, as a matter of fact. You stay right there.”

  “I’m not going anywhere except to jail.” He looked very satisfied with himself.

  “I’m, uh, going to tie you to the chair until the police get here, okay?” That hadn’t sounded very confident, but he sat down. I couldn’t think of anything in the office I could use to tie him up, until my eyes fell on the bag of lingerie. I took out a pair of 3X peach elastic lace panties and made a big production of wrapping them around the arm of the office chair a couple of times before tying what I hoped was a good knot. Then I did the same thing with a pair of teal ones with no crotch. Ridiculous, I knew it, but without another idea, what was a girl to do?

  I used the hi-tech three-line phone on my oak desk to place the call to the police department. We sat there, staring at each other as we waited for the cavalry. The whole time I wondered if I’d see Kitty again any time soon or if she’d stay away now that I’d gotten her son incarcerated.

  “How bizarre,” Bella said when I called to tell her what had happened. “I’m still a little peeved you didn’t tell me about the missing lingerie before today, but I get that you wanted to do things on your own.”

  Bella understood because she had a family life similar to my own. She was the oldest and had successfully opened her own shop despite her parents’ disapproval. I, on the other hand, had struck out on my own only because a shop had been given to me. There were some differences in how we got where we were, but the common thread was parental disapproval.

  Speaking of my dad, he was due to fly into town in less than twenty-four hours. I told her I had to go and tried to remember if I had clean towels and sheets for his visit. I’d have to change the bed and fluff the comforter. I hoped this visit wasn’t going to be awkward and that he wouldn’t try to talk me back into the pink room.

  He’d have a hard time convincing me to leave. I was now firmly ensconced in this little town, even if some of the residents still thought I was a freeloader. Besides, I was about to get laid by the hottest guy I’d ever seen.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I couldn’t get hold of Ben until later that afternoon. I still needed to tell him about Charlie’s arrest and my suspicions about Kitty.

  His phone rang and rang. I was about to leave a sultry message that would knock his socks off and make him call back quickly, when he picked up. His gruff hello left me momentarily off-balance. I recovered and cleared my throat. “Hi, there.”

  “Hey, sexy lady.”

  I really hoped he couldn’t hear my blush over the phone. “So I had a lot of excitement in the shop today, and I tried to get you on the phone but couldn’t find you.” That didn’t sound like a nagging girlfriend, did it?

  Apparently not enough to put him off. “Sorry about that. I was trying to track down some more information about Janice and who could have wanted to hurt her. I made some calls over to her hometown. I didn’t find anything new by talking to her parents and people she knew, so I still have nothing.”

  He sounded so disappointed I started with my theory instead of the big arrest. “I think I have a way of figuring out who murdered Janice, but I need your help and Bella’s. I was thinking we would meet and get a plan together. But in the meantime I have some excellent news.”

  “Does this have to do with the excitement in the shop?”

  “Yes, it does, and wait till you hear how awesome we are at investigating.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  So I told him about overhearing Kitty and Charlie and about tying Charlie to the chair. By the time the police had shown up, Charlie was singing like a hound in the throes of passion about how it was all his plan and his fault. He took the blame for everything. When I tried to ask him about his mother’s involvement, he vehemently denied that anyone else was in on the theft. I had a feeling he was happy to be getting away from a nagging mom and an angry girlfriend. He did say he had given the bras to Jackie, but as a gift, and she knew nothing about where they’d come from. Which made her stupid in my book, if she actually believed it. The police were not happy I had tried to solve the whole missing lingerie thing on my own, and they made sure to tell me never to do anything like that again.

  But the best part was when they had to untie him from the chair and handle the crotchless panties. It was priceless. And that image would have to last me, because I was planning to go directly against their orders and play Columbo again with one last mystery before I gave it up to the police.

  So we set the meeting for my house, tonight, with hopeful execution tomorrow before my dad came winging into town.

  When I got home from the shop, feeling very proud of myself for figuring out the lingerie thing, I checked my messages because the red light on the phone was blinking. I put the speakerphone on and the voice from a few days ago, that one I couldn’t originally tell if it was a man or a woman, came on the line with the force of a bullhorn.

  “You have no idea what you’re messing with, Ivy Morris. You need to go home and forget about this town. It should have been you, and I doubt Janice enjoyed falling in your place.”

  Despite thinking I knew who the voice belonged to and hopefully having a plan to get her, I was still scared. I called Ben, and, wouldn’t you know, he ran right over. If I had any doubts about being in love with him, they all flew out the window when his car came to a rocking stop at my curb and he hustled up my front walk, determination clear on his face. My knight in tarnished armor.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Maybe you should listen to the message and tell me what you think,” I said, leading him into the kitchen and replaying the message in all its glory on the speakerphone.

  “Jeez, this person is not well. So now are you going to tell me who you think it is?” He took me into his strong arms and I rested my head on his collarbone. It made for a perfect fit.

  “Let’s wait for Bella.”

  Twenty minutes later, over dinner from the only restaurant in town that would deliver (my friends at Pizza Hut), Bella, Ben, and I went over my conclusions, thoughts, and feelings, throwing in observations of their own. We feasted on buffalo wings and cheese sticks as we went over all the equipment we needed and how best to play our hand. Basically, we hoped we knew what the hell we were doing and that we’d be able to catch our villain with a minimum of violence and bloodshed. Heaven help us, I thought, as I placed one call to my Great-Aunt Gertie’s attorney and another to our intended victim.

  Chapter Twenty-Four />
  The next morning dawned bright and early, with Ben having figured in more crazy dreams, some involving a swing and a shoe full of champagne. Bella had spent the night, leaving me no choice other than to remain celibate for a little while longer. Ben was adamant that our first time not include the stricture of Bella in the next room. He said he wanted me to feel free to scream.

  He slept over, too, taking the foldout couch in my second bedroom, as Bella had already claimed my living room couch again. For some reason, he didn’t want the floor and a boot pillow a second time. Go figure.

  I walked out of my bedroom, following the smell of bacon and eggs into the kitchen. I found Ben there looking delicious, as always, and Bella wrapped in a huge robe the color of raspberries.

  “Eggs,” she said, placing a piled plate in front of me and grunting.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said. I smiled at Ben across the table and felt his toes wander up the slit in my robe. My smile widened. While Bella fussed over another plate of food, I let my own foot trail up the inseam of his jeans and was very proud of myself for playing like this. I made what I hoped were sexy faces at him and watched as his dimples winked on. Point for me.

  Sliding my foot higher up his leg, I scootched down in my chair a little to reach the bulge in his pants with my sock-covered toe. I gave him a naughty smile and a little giggle—really enjoying myself—when Bella stumbled from behind the stove, aiming for a chair at the table and rocking my chair in the process. My whole body lurched forward and Ben gave a great yell before bending over to grip his stomach, thereby smacking his head on the edge of the table in the process.

  Needless to say, I was a little late when I showed up at the offices of Landon, Lerner, and Winnet. What with getting two bags of frozen peas for Ben and then leaving him in Bella’s care when I realized what time it was, I streaked in the door halfway through the appointment.

  Mr. Winnet welcomed me graciously, even though I was already a half-hour into my allotted time, and sat down with me. He offered me coffee and I declined, my stomach tied up into knots over what I was contemplating doing today.

  “I appreciate your time, Mr. Winnet. I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t paying much attention when you read the official will after Gertie’s funeral, and I have a few questions for you.”

  “Go ahead, Ivy. I was very fond of your great-aunt, and I’m willing to do whatever I can to help you.”

  So I told him as little as possible and asked the one question that would seal up my suspicions. “At this point, if I died, who would inherit The Masked Shoppe?”

  His answer gave me the chills, but let me know I was on the right track. I thanked him for his time and headed for the shop, where I had some serious preparing to do.

  An hour later we were set, with Bella and Ben in their positions. The Masked Shoppe opened in an hour, but I had a very necessary appointment first.

  There was a knock on the front door, and I wiped my sweaty palms against the sides of my skirt. If I had even one ounce of my sister the drama queen in myself, and if I had really grown a backbone during my time in my new town with my friends, this was the time to break it out.

  I blew out a breath and walked to the door. “I will not be afraid. I have a plan, I have friends who will help me, and I have nothing to fear,” I mumbled under my breath. Yes, I knew it was a little repetitive, but anything more difficult than that and I was afraid I’d start rocking myself in the corner.

  I stared through the glass door before turning the brass knob, infusing my knees and my back with starch. I yanked the door open, smiling my best smile. “Kitty, I’m very glad you could come this early. Thanks for being punctual.”

  She seemed a bit unsure of herself until she crossed over the threshold into The Masked Shoppe. Then it was as if a switch were flipped. Her back straightened and her head came up. She was confident, assured, and ready to take the reins.

  “Thank you for inviting me, Ivy. Now what was it that you needed to talk to me about?” She smoothed down the front of her melon-colored sweater set, then rested her hands on her gray slacks.

  I offered her the cup of tea I’d made earlier and watched as she let it sit there, not touching it because she was so intent on why I’d asked her to come to the shop. “Well, Kitty, I was hoping you and I could talk about the shop. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed here, and the bills don’t pay themselves. I was thinking perhaps we could enter into some kind of agreement where you would own a part of the shop and we could be partners. I talked with Mr. Winnet this morning, and he told me how disappointed you were when Gertie left me the shop instead of you. And I know you must be distraught over Charlie’s arrest. I thought maybe I could help you give your life some purpose by making you a manager. You would have some responsibility, and I’d give back your key. Of course, you wouldn’t be a full partner, but maybe this way we could all get a little something we want.” I paused, then offered to go get the paperwork I’d had the attorney draw up as a prop.

  “Yes, I’d like to see what you have in mind. Thank you.” Her voice made it sound like she wanted to add, “you bitch” on the end of that. She twitched a little in her seat, and I could almost see her brain replaying my words. Thinking about how little I was actually giving her, how she’d have to settle for a lot less than she’d wanted, and how her son was in jail for stealing my lingerie. By this time she must have known I knew she was in on that little scheme, too.

  I was counting on her being desperate. When I went back into my office, I watched her on my newly installed security camera. Ben was nice enough to pull strings for me to get it last night. This setup meant I had a front row seat when she took a couple of capsules out of her purse and broke them into the cup sitting in front of my seat in the main room.

  I timed my re-entrance so I could sit down with the paperwork before she had time to take a sip of her tea. “If you’d like to read over them now, that would be fine,” I said as I lifted up my teacup. I saw the anticipation, the sick glee in her eyes as I brought the cup to my lips.

  Then I pretended to sniff it and pulled it away from my nose quickly. The light dimmed in her eyes and then died as I said, “Oh, Kitty, I’m so sorry. I placed the wrong cup in front of you. This is the chamomile I made for you and I had the Earl Grey. I apologize. Silly me, I almost had you drinking sugar, and we both know how your system can only handle Sweet-N-Low.” I’d remembered that little tidbit from Bella, who used to do Kitty’s hair and got yelled at if Bella made Kitty’s tea wrong.

  I saw the way her eyes widened and the very earth seemed to stop when her brow crinkled. I almost heard her snap. Then she was a whirl of activity as she jumped up and threw the table at me, making a mad dash for the door. Or so I thought, until she turned back with one of the rapiers we carried and started advancing toward me with malice in her eye.

  “You ruined everything,” she said, breathing heavy and rasping her words. “You ruined everything for me, and now I’m going to pay you back.”

  “Now, Kitty...”

  “Don’t you ‘Now, Kitty’ me, you oversized cow. I had the perfect plan, and you were supposed to hightail it out of here when your store was burglarized. You, being a coward and all, were supposed to get all girly on me and go back to your Southern California and your sun and your year-round tan. But no, you had to snoop around instead of taking my barbs to heart and the lingerie as a warning against bad things happening.”

  Was this the part where I was supposed to keep her talking? Because I was getting creeped out and thinking I ought to either get the hell out of here or grab up my own rapier. But Kitty blocked both the front door and the wall with my brand new, really nice display of plastic swords.

  “Then you didn’t even have the decency to die at that Barn party. You made me kill an innocent woman I really liked. Janice was nice, whereas you are the spawn of Satan.”

  “I made you kill Janice? You poisoned Janice and the only thing you have to say for yourself is that it’s someone
else’s fault?” Okay, not doing so good on keeping her talking and not making her angrier. Now she started advancing on me with her little plastic sword. The rapier might have been made of plastic, but it was hard plastic. Those babies could sting if slashed through the air.

  “Yes, you horrendous bitch. You made me kill Janice. You were the one in the flapper costume, and you told me yourself you were wearing the blue mask. I saw you with the wig on the counter. You were supposed to be dressed like Janice was, and I brought you a glass of champagne with the poison. I watched you down it in one gulp. Except it wasn’t you, and so it’s your fault she’s dead. You were supposed to faint and then wake up scared, and bolt for home like the frightened heifer you are. But I gave her too much of the stuff. Your fat ass would have just fainted, but it was too much for Janice. I saw her eyes roll back and she dropped dead away. But then I had to be sure, because she’d seen me right before I realized she wasn’t you.” She advanced on me again, nostrils flaring. “So I had to stab her with a pair of scissors from my purse. And now it’s your turn to die. You put my son in jail and took my store, and now you’ll die in it.”

  Her logic was obviously askew. How did she think she would get the store, or even get away, for that matter, once she killed me? And she was about to pay dearly for her cow and fat references. Besides, even if she managed to put the hurt on me, I had my backup in place.

  “Kitty, what do you think you’re going to do with that sword?” I said this, cool as a cucumber, and waited for her reply. Instead I felt a distinct stinging on my bare forearm. “You hit me!”

  “You’re damn right I did, and there’s a lot more where that came from.” She grabbed a silk belly dancer scarf off the same wall and tried to wrap it around my wrist. All the while she was mumbling things about Charlie skulking around my house on the night of the Ball and using a similar scarf to muffle her voice during her threatening phone calls. She snapped the sword at me again.