Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1)

by Karen Chester

  Emma’s hands curled into fists, and the ache returned to her stomach. “I’m not sure. People just started collapsing.” She drew in a breath. “Why are you here? I thought it was the food and health authorities’ responsibility to investigate food poisoning.”

  Sherilee lifted a shoulder. “Just following orders. Besides, this might be more than just accidental, seeing as how people got ill so quickly. It could have been deliberate poisoning.”

  Deliberate poisoning? That was so much worse. Emma’s stomach heaved, and sweat broke out on her brow from the effort of keeping herself composed.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Sherilee’s composed gaze swept over Emma, making her acutely aware of her crumpled dress and her hair coming loose from its knot. In contrast, Sherilee looked crisp and competent in her polycotton blend police uniform. “You don’t look too good.”

  “I’m fine,” Emma retorted. No way did she want Sherilee feeling sorry for her.

  The officer’s gaze shifted past Emma’s shoulder, and some of her frostiness dissolved. “Hey, Fletcher. What are you doing here? We didn’t call in the sheriff’s department.”

  Emma’s heart descended into the nauseous whirlpool in her stomach. Could this night get even worse? Apparently, it could. Now, not only did she have her nemesis questioning her, but her old high school boyfriend had arrived to witness this entire debacle.

  Owen Fletcher stopped in front of the two women. For such a tall man he was surprisingly light on his feet. A deputy sheriff with the Marion County Sheriff’s Office, he wasn’t in uniform tonight, though his black cargo pants, dark shirt, close-cropped hair and square jaw exuded a law enforcement air.

  “Evening, Emma,” he said, grave and polite, before turning to Sherilee, his voice lightening. “I’m not here on official business. Mom called me to pick her up. She came with a friend, but Marcie needs some medical attention.”

  “Oh, no,” Emma blurted out. She hadn’t even noticed Owen’s mom at the party, that was how harried she’d been. Now, she felt even worse. She’d always liked Owen’s mom; she hoped Ingrid didn’t think she’d been snubbing her. “I’m so sorry, Owen.”

  He looked at her with a quizzical expression. “I hear you’re the one who organized this whole shebang.”

  His eyes were deep mocha brown, and once upon a time they had lit up whenever he saw her. Now, they were wiser and warier, but still they held a hint of sympathy, and his was the first friendly face she’d seen in what felt like hours.

  “It’s probably the last shebang I get to organize, if Tony Barnet gets his way,” she muttered, folding her arms around her waist.

  On the other side of the room, Tony had been monopolizing the other police officer for several minutes, talking earnestly and a couple of times pointing accusingly in Emma’s direction. Jordan was nowhere to be seen.

  “Barnet thinks you’re responsible for this?” Owen briefly glanced at Tony before addressing Sherilee. “That can’t be right.”

  Sherilee shrugged. “We’ve just started investigating. We can’t jump to conclusions.”

  “But Tony already has,” Emma said. “I suppose he expects you to march me off in handcuffs.”

  “I’m a professional, Emma,” Sherilee said with just a hint of a smirk. “I won’t arrest you just because Mr. Barnet insists you’re the culprit,”

  Another painful wave twisted her stomach, but Emma compressed her lips, determined not to show any weakness in front of these two people.

  “What, does he think I’m trying to harm him?” she scoffed. She really had had enough of Tony Barnet and his bullying. “Honestly, if I wanted to hurt Tony, I can think of plenty of better ways than poisoning his guests.”

  A look of alarm flickered across Owen’s face. She was familiar with that expression. He’d always been the steady, reliable one, whereas she’d been the reckless girlfriend leading him astray. It was a wonder they’d ever got together in the first place.

  But then her vision blurred as another attack suddenly gripped her, and this time she couldn’t hide her agony. Doubling up, she let out a groan as her stomach heaved ominously. Panic fogged her brain. Her body couldn’t wait any longer to get rid of the toxins, the nearest bathroom was miles away, and she was already responsible for the ruining of one priceless Persian rug. She couldn’t afford another one.

  So she did the only sensible thing. She grabbed a crystal vase filled with expensive orchids and tossed the flowers to the floor. She began to gag. Bending her head over the vase, she had no choice but to allow her body to take over. Through her misery, she heard an outraged yell as someone stormed up to her.

  “That’s Waterford crystal, you dimwit!” Tony Barnet screamed. “You’re puking in my Waterford crystal!”

  Chapter Two

  “If you change your mind, please call me. Yes, I understand. Of course, the safety of your guests is paramount. Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. Goodbye, Mrs. Lawson.”

  Sighing, Emma ended the call, rested her elbows on her desk, and buried her face in her hands. That was the second cancellation in as many days, and she was beginning to fear each time her cell phone rang. A clatter of heels on the wooden floor brought her upright just in time to see Caitlyn trip into her office.

  “Brought your mail,” Caitlyn sang, waving a pile of letters in her manicured fingers.

  “Oh, thank you, sweetie.”

  Today Caitlyn’s nail varnish was candy cotton pink to go with her skintight pink leggings, fondant white top, and scarlet four-inch heels. The twenty-two-year-old was her part-time assistant mainly owing to the fact that Emma’s office shared the same building as the hair salon where Caitlyn worked as a manicurist. When Emma had moved back to Greenville determined to set up her own event planning business, her first requirement had been to hire some office space, something affordable but not something that screamed bargain basement. That was not the image she wanted for her business.

  The timber, two-story Victorian house that stood on the edge of Main Street was quaint and charming, with white paint and colorful window boxes. Lulu’s Salon occupied the first floor, but a compact upstairs room made an ideal, bargain-priced office for A Perfect Party. From the little lace balcony Emma could either look down the length of Main Street or across the roof tops to the glistening waters of Shamrock Lake.

  Caitlyn had been very excited when Emma had set up office upstairs and had volunteered to collect her mail, answer calls, and make coffee for visitors, so hiring the perky girl on a part-time basis seemed only fair. But today even Caitlyn’s cheeriness failed to lift Emma’s spirits which drooped even further as she went through her mail.

  “Bills,” she sighed, opening and tossing them one by one onto her desk. She froze as she read the last one. “Oh goodness, I don’t believe it! Is he serious?”

  “Is who serious about what?”

  “Tony Barnet. He’s sent me an invoice for carpet cleaning. Eight hundred dollars! How can he do this?”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Caitlyn made a moue of sympathy as she twirled a lock of hair around her fingers. “Are you going to pay him?”

  Muttering an unsavory word, Emma crumpled up the invoice and threw it across the room.

  “Not before I have a word with him,” she said grimly.

  “Ooh, you’re brave.” Caitlyn shuddered. “I wouldn’t be game to argue with him.”

  Emma pushed to her feet. The truth was, she couldn’t afford to part with eight hundred dollars, not when two clients had cancelled this week and no new enquires had come in ever since that disaster on Saturday, four nights ago. News of the incident had spread through Greenville and around Shamrock Lake like proverbial wild fire, and Emma had copped more than a few snarky remarks and pointed stares. Like it or not, she was now infamous for ruining Tony Barnet’s important housewarming party, and vomiting into his two-thousand-dollar crystal vase. That was not the reputation she’d envisaged building when she’d returned to Greenville.

  “I can’t worr
y about Tony Barnet now,” Emma said as she packed her tablet into her roomy tote bag. “I have an appointment with Madison.”

  Thank heavens Madison White hadn’t cancelled, although it was probably a bit late to switch planners when her and Sean McCluskey’s wedding was in a month.

  Emma followed Caitlyn downstairs, then jumped into her little white Toyota hatchback to make the drive out to Madison’s parents’ house. The journey took her away from Greenville’s town center and along the perimeter of the lake. Spring had arrived, and orange poppies and mauve lupines flowered in the fields. But just as she was starting to enjoy the scenery, her car began to cough and jerk alarmingly. She pulled her foot off the gas, anxiously peering at the dials in the dashboard. Oh, please, don’t break down now, she silently pleaded. After a few more splutters, the engine seemed to recover, and the clanking noise coming from the hood stopped.

  What a relief. The last thing she needed now was a busted car.

  Reminders of her dismal bank balance weighed on her as she approached her destination. The Whites lived on Wineglass Bay, one of the oldest and most exclusive suburbs in the entire lake area, in a magnificent stone-and-timber mansion that Madison’s great-grandfather had built when the family had first settled in the region.

  Emma steered her car down a long gravel driveway lined with rose bushes and pulled to a halt near the entrance. Her modest hatchback looked out of place here, but so did the hulking, gray pickup truck next to her, emblazoned with the name ‘McCluskey’s Auto Repair’ in bold white writing on its sides.

  She was glad to see the groom-to-be, Sean McCluskey, was here for the meeting. He hadn’t attended many, apparently happy to leave the wedding details to Madison. A lot of grooms were like that, in Emma’s experience, but she believed the best weddings were when the groom was more involved. Of course, she had no idea if that made for better marriages.

  Maria, the Whites’ housekeeper showed her into the library where Madison, Sean, and Cynthia White, Madison’s mother, were sitting.

  Madison jumped up as soon as Emma entered. “Hi, Emma. So great to see you.”

  Emma greeted her and the other two. Madison was bouncing with nervous energy, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder and fidgeting with her necklace. Her white cropped ankle pants and ruffle-sleeved top were simple and expensive, complementing her slim, graceful figure and light tan. She worked as an intern at a local tourism organization, but Emma doubted Madison would ever need a paying job. Her mother’s family were old money, and her father was a successful businessman himself.

  Sean, on the other hand, was Madison’s complete opposite. Anyone who lived long enough in Greenville would eventually get to hear of the McCluskeys. If the Whites were old money, then the McCluskeys were old outlaws. There were dozens of McCluskeys living in the area, and one or other of them always seemed to be in trouble with the law.

  Sean, though, appeared to have broken the mold. He might have had his run-ins with the law when he was younger, but now he had turned over a new leaf. He ran his own auto repair shop, kept his nose clean, and had somehow managed to convince a princess like Madison to not only go out with him, but also to accept his marriage proposal. Emma had known Sean in high school. She’d always liked him and was happy to see him doing so well.

  “So what’s on the agenda today?” Madison asked as she rocked back and forth on the couch while Sean slouched next to her.

  “Why don’t we start by finalizing the menu?” Emma said. She hauled her tablet out of her bag and set it on the low table between the couches.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Madison squeezed Sean’s arm and wriggled about. She seemed on edge, Emma thought. All brides got nervy as the big day drew near, but Madison seemed unusually high-strung.

  So did Sean, now that she thought about it. But his mood appeared less excitable and more dour. He nodded vaguely as he bit his thumb, his mind clearly on other things.

  “Sure, babe,” he muttered.

  “Here’s a sample menu I thought you might like.” Emma handed the tablet to the couple. “Why don’t you two look over that? We can start with what you want for appetizers.”

  Madison leaned forward to study the menu, but Sean was gazing off into the distance. She pinched his knee playfully. “Hey, coochie pie. We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

  He blushed—as any man would at being called ‘coochie pie’ in public, in Emma’s opinion—and shook his head. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment.”

  Madison’s face puckered up in concern. “Aw, what’s wrong? Anything I can help you with?”

  “Uh, no. It’s nothing.” He cracked his knuckles, the popping sound explosive in the library.

  Sitting across from the happy couple, Cynthia White frowned. She’d been quiet ever since they sat, but Emma didn’t miss that grimace or the disapproving look aimed at the tattoos stamped on Sean’s forearms.

  Madison’s mother was the epitome of elegance. Artfully colored blonde hair framed a sculpted face while a taupe silk dress draped over her thin frame. She toyed absentmindedly with a long rope of pearls hung around her neck. Pearls were a fast favorite of hers, and she never appeared without a necklace or bracelet of them. The creamy, subtly colored jewels suited her restrained personality. Emma had never witnessed Cynthia raise her voice or lose her temper, yet she got the impression that beneath that cool veneer, Cynthia’s emotions ran deep.

  “I’m going to ask Maria to make some coffee,” Cynthia drawled, rising fluidly to her feet.

  “Oh, by the way, Mom, Sean’s staying for lunch,” Madison said.

  Cynthia paused midway to the door and pursed her lips. “Very well.”

  She sailed out of the room without another word. But Emma had seen enough to confirm her suspicions. Cynthia did not approve at all of Sean McCluskey, and she must be dreading the thought of her precious daughter, her only child, marrying him. No big surprise there, Emma mused as she watched Madison and Sean poring over the menus. Not many families here in Wineglass Bay would enjoy being linked with the infamous McCluskeys. The only surprise was that Cynthia and Howard White had allowed the wedding preparations to progress this far.

  But why was she thinking along these lines? Emma chided herself. Maybe the Whites saw how much Sean meant to Madison and were happy for their daughter, even if they might have chosen a different son-in-law. Happy, reasonable families did exist.

  “Let’s go with the lobster,” Madison said, pointing enthusiastically at a photo on the tablet screen. “It looks delicious.”

  “And pricey,” Sean muttered, a slight frown furrowing his brow. “Couldn’t we go with shrimp instead?”

  Madison pulled a face. “Shrimp cocktail? That’s so dated, Sean. Why can’t we go with the lobster?”

  “I’m only trying to economize here. The budget’s already blown out twice and we haven’t got the final figure yet.”

  “If the budget’s worrying you, then I can talk with Daddy.” Madison tossed back her hair. “He said he’d be happy to bail us out if we need it.”

  Sean clenched his fists. “Yeah, I’m sure he would.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean he’d jump at the chance to show you how much money he has, how he can provide for you so much better than I can, how you’re making a mistake with me.”

  “How can you think that? Daddy made the offer because he’s generous and he loves me, but you twist it into something else.”

  “Oh, come on, Maddie!” Sean jumped to his feet. Neither he nor Madison seemed to care that Emma was sitting there. “Stop trying to fool yourself. We both know your parents loathe the sight of me. They’ve been hoping you’d dump me for months! Admit it.”

  Emma wished she had a cloak of invisibility so she could disappear from the scene. So her suspicions about the Whites were right. Madison and Sean’s argument affected her more than she’d anticipated. To her, they were like star-crossed lovers from t
he opposite sides of the track who were going to succeed against the odds. And that comforted her. Though the failure of her own relationship had left her bruised and jaded, Madison and Sean had given her hope. But now, cracks were appearing in their once united front.

  Madison’s chin quivered, and her eyes swam with tears. She lowered her head, allowing her curtain of hair to block her from Sean’s view. But Emma could still see her face, and her tortured expression gave away the fact that she couldn’t refute Sean’s accusations.

  “I hate it when we argue,” she whispered.

  Sean’s face fell, and he hurried to her side, pulling her into his arms. “Me, too, babe. I don’t know why we’re fighting over a few dollars. Of course we can have the lobster.”

  “No, you’re right. We need to trim expenses. We’ll go with the shrimp.”

  “We’re having the lobster. I insist.” He squeezed Madison’s shoulder before glancing at Emma. “Can you make a note of that, Emma? We’re going with the lobster appetizer.”

  “Oh, Sean.” Madison choked up. “You don’t have to.”

  “Anything for you, babe.”

  Emma remained silent as she jotted the choice in her notebook. Going with the lobster would cost them more than just a few dollars more, so she hoped Sean could afford to pay for it.

  Cynthia returned, and when she saw Sean and Madison cuddling on the couch, the frown returned to her brow. She flicked irritably at her immaculate skirt as she reseated herself.

  “Please get on with the menu.” She squeezed her pearl necklace and ran the beads through her fingers. “I’m sure Emma doesn’t have all day.”

  Sean withdrew his arm from Madison and sat up straight. For a while they all concentrated on finalizing the menu. Sean and Madison hadn’t given Emma much time to organize the wedding, but they didn’t want to wait for months on end. They wanted the wedding soon, and Emma had been more than happy to accommodate them. She’d only got the gig because Madison frequented Lulu’s Salon and had seen Emma’s brand new sign at the front door. The wedding, to which all the Whites’ friends and relatives had been invited, would be Emma’s biggest event to date, and she was determined it would go off without a hitch. Even more so after Tony Barnet’s housewarming.