A Geek Girl's Guide to Arsenic

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  My phone dinged. Bree responded to my text with a little devil face emoticon.

  I shoved the phone into my pocket. “Okeydokey.”

  Bree bounced Gwen on her hip, regaining their attention. “Should Mia bring anything? A dish to share? Cookies? Maybe a guest?”

  I scowled. Where was laser eye technology? Why weren’t laser eyes a thing yet?

  Parker tipped her head. “No. You don’t need to bring anything. Friends are always welcome, though. The more the merrier.”

  I loosened my cloak. Surely someone else knew this was awkward. “Sounds fun.” For someone who didn’t mind a party or group settings where they knew no one.

  Bree took over the conversation, and I went to my happy place where I pulled it together when things got weird. Why was Parker inviting me to Friendsgiving? Why was Mrs. Archer watching me? Why did my twin have to be dressed as a harlot?

  A familiar face came into view through the dim evening light. George Flick sauntered along the path toward the art gallery. His dark attire and the black plume in his hat implied a state of mourning. Was it all for show, or could he have hurt John? His slow crawl toward their booth seemed morose and authentic, but maybe that was a result of regret for his actions.

  “Mia?” Parker sounded nervous. “Are you okay?”

  “Hmm?” I examined their faces. What did I miss?

  “Do you feel all right?”

  “Oh. Yes. Sorry. I need to check on something. Excuse me.” I slid between the women, thankful for an escape and only mildly horrified by my less-than-graceful exit. “Thank you for the invitation,” I called, waving the little envelope overhead as I hastened away.

  Leaving Bree alone with two members of Jake’s family was unfortunate but unavoidable. She loved to gab. There was no stopping her. If I’d stayed to moderate the conversation, I might’ve missed the chance to ask my main suspect where he’d been for the past two days.

  I followed a trio of women into the small wooden building decked out in John’s artwork.

  Every square inch of space was adorned in art of every shape and size. Paintings hung in rows from the ceiling, on hooks and on walls. John must have painted around the clock to accomplish so much.

  Near the back of the shop, George waved at an oil portrait on an easel. “This was his final work.” He pressed a hairy knuckle to his eye and shook with emotion.

  A group of women swooned and patted his arm. “We’re so sorry.”

  Oh, brother.

  “Hi.” I scooted into the mix. “I’m Mia Connors. I work the Guinevere’s Golden Beauty booth with my family.”

  The man removed his knuckle from his eye and stroked his bushy beard. “I know you.”

  “Right. Good.” I rubbed my palms together, wishing the women would go away. “Your partner was a friend of mine. I’ve learned he was poisoned, and I was hoping you might be able to help me find out who would do something like that to him.”

  “Are you suggesting I did it?” His booming retort brought the enormity of his size into pinpoint focus. He hadn’t seemed dangerous before, curled in on himself and weeping. However, standing fully erect and looking like an angry Paul Bunyan changed things.

  I took an eensy step back. “No. I thought since you worked directly with him, you might know who would want to hurt him. Did he seem troubled during his last few days?”

  “I’ve already answered these questions when the actual police asked them. I don’t have to talk to you.” He glared down at me.

  “No. You don’t, but you’re certainly worked up for a guy pretending to mourn. I thought you’d want to help him. I thought you might explain why you’re doing well financially and John was broke, or maybe where you were all weekend?”

  His face burned pink, then scarlet. He turned slowly toward the women. “Would you kindly excuse me for just a wee moment?”

  He hustled me outside, jerking his head to the left. He released me as we moved alongside the gallery’s exterior. I curled my fingers around a fresh can of pepper spray in my pocket.

  Shrouded in shadows, the man collapsed against the side of his shop, tears welling in his blue eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” He wrenched himself forward and braced both hands on his knees. “Who would hurt such a talented and tenderhearted man? It’s senseless.”

  Not what I’d expected. “Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  He sniffled. “He was my best friend, you know? We hit it off right away. We’ve been partners ever since, almost a year now. He was a master. He could’ve painted anything. Even the greats would be green with envy in his presence. He wasn’t just a brush and beautiful face, either. He had heart.” He grabbed handfuls of wild brown hair and pulled it, clearly stricken.

  “Word around the fairgrounds is the two of you fought. Often. Is that true?’

  He nodded. “I thought he should put his talent to work on greater things. Enter contests. Accept big commissions. Have a fancy show downtown where everyone could appreciate him. He refused. Half the time he was here, he stayed in the back or wandered the grounds. It was like he avoided me. It broke my heart.”

  “Mr. Flick, where have you been the past few days?”

  He blinked tear-filled eyes. “Mourning.”

  I ran over his words. His tone. His behavior. I sank my teeth into my lip. “I might be off base here, and I’m sorry if I am, but I’m on a time limit. Were you in love with John?”

  Fire raced over his features, morphing them through a bevy of emotions. He jerked upright, towering over me in the darkness.

  I grabbed the mace again. My cold fingers fumbled, unable to uncap it before he lunged at me.

  His long hairy arms wrapped tight around my shoulders and pulled me against him. He tipped his scruffy cheek against my head and whimpered.

  I froze.

  His chest bobbed against mine. “I never told him how I felt. He died without a clue.” Ugly sobs broke over my hair. “I knew the minute I saw him at a museum, admiring a Dali. He was the perfect man.”

  Oh boy. I wiggled a travel pack of tissues from the pouch at my hip and lifted one to him. “Here.”

  He accepted, and I jumped out of reach. “I’m not a hugger.” I needed an antibacterial shower and all new clothes, not to mention shampoo. “I’m going to go. Keep the tissues.” I backed away slowly. “Have a nice night. Don’t forget those women looking at that painting. I’m sure John cared about you too.” Not like that, but maybe. Who knew?

  Chapter Twenty

  I lowered myself onto the floor beside Nate, careful not to spill my chips, and stretched my legs out in front of me. “I don’t know. Mr. Flick seemed really broken up. Maybe Jake’s right. That guy had too much to lose.” I set the chips aside and hoisted my laptop onto my legs.

  “Maybe.” Nate shoved another slice of pizza between his lips. His red Flash T-shirt emphasized the vast mop of Ron Weasley hair hanging in his eyes. “I still think it was a crime of passion. Never underestimate a jilted lover.”

  “You say love. I say money.” I logged into REIGN and grabbed my virtual weapons for a short quest into the Luminous Mountains. “I still think his death has something to do with money. He used to paint for a crime family. Even if I’m not convinced this was a hit, I can’t ignore the whole federal witness bit. Maybe I was wrong before. Maybe that comes into play somehow.” The mysterious pair who rented a car and followed Jake and me to Horseshoe Falls came to mind. Where were they now? Who were they, really?

  “You don’t agree with the love angle because you’ve never been in love.”

  I sucked on a diet soda and made plans to beat the snot out of a few opposing huntsmen until I figured out where to take my investigation next.

  Nate’s character appeared beside mine on my screen. What’d those huntsmen ever do t
o you?

  I stunned him with my sword.

  “Hey!” His character drank a health potion and kicked dirt my way. Nate peered over his screen but looked away when I met his gaze.

  I scooted on my backside, turning my screen away from him. My jeans slid easily across the cool wooden floor until my shoulders rested on the leather couch I’d bought for my new place. The old couch had been covered in memories I didn’t want.

  Nate’s bright green eyes inched up to meet mine. This time I was waiting for him, but once again he turned them back to his screen.

  “What?” I shoved my laptop onto the floor and folded my legs. “I see you staring. Are we flirting now or do you have something you want to say?”

  “You think that was flirting? No wonder you don’t date.”

  I tossed a chip at him. “Shut up. What do you want? Say it.”

  “No. Another time.” He raised his knees to balance his laptop in front of his face. “It’s nothing. Unimportant. No biggie.”

  The next chip I threw bounced off the back of his screen. “Say it. Don’t keep looking at me with that face and not talking. There’s obviously something on your mind. You’ve been quiet all night, and quiet isn’t in your repertoire. If you won’t tell me what’s on your mind, then at least tell me you have advice on who I should question next about the murder.”

  He lowered his laptop. “I need business advice.”

  “Oh, geez.” I rolled onto the floor, and faced the ceiling. “You don’t want my advice. My company’s in peril.”

  He set his computer aside and leaned toward me. “You’ll turn it around. You’re great at business, Mia. Come on.”

  “Blah.” A certain company called Earth Hugger didn’t seem to share his faith. It was now Tuesday night and Petal still hadn’t returned my calls.

  “What if I told you I spent all my savings and I’m kind of excited about it?”

  I snapped upright, careful not to topple my computer. “You did not.” My chest tightened at the thought. “People don’t get pensions anymore, Nate. What were you thinking? That was your nest egg. You needed to invest that money. How many times have I told you? Your life expectancy is almost one hundred. Do you have any idea the cost of medical care? Old people need lots of medical care, and you’ll need it for decades after retirement. Assuming you ever get to retire, since you just made a colossally stupid money choice.” I grabbed my drink and sucked it down. “I think I’m having an attack.”

  “Knock it off.” He threw my chip missiles back. “I don’t need money management or investment advice.”

  “I think you do.”

  “I need business advice.”

  “Don’t start a business. Eighty percent of new businesses fail.”

  His jaw went rigid. “If you don’t listen to me soon, I’m going to come over there and hold your mouth shut.”

  “Hey!”

  He narrowed his eyes. All signs of his normally jovial disposition were gone. Only the stern-faced boxer who regularly scared the bejesus out of beefy men in silk shorts and robes remained.

  I let out a long breath and nodded.

  “Thank you.” He brushed himself off and stood to pace along my wall of windows. “I bought REIGN.”

  What?

  “Baxter and I talked about game creation for years. You know that. You were part of most of it. Last fall we started a bible of details and ideas. What worked and what didn’t. Improvements on existing favorites. Reasons other games sucked. We spent entire weekends on it sometimes. I thought we’d hire a designer one day and start our own online role-playing game, but then Baxter died and I let it all go.” He spun to face me, features alight, the expression I loved. “Then, something amazing happened.”

  I lifted my eyebrows as high as possible without breaking my promise of silence.

  “REIGN went up for sale. All the rights, everything. I couldn’t pass it up.”

  I raised a hand, no longer able to be still. Adrenaline burned through me like I’d just won a trip to space. On Serenity. With Mal.

  “Yes?”

  “You own this game?” I turned a nervous finger toward my open screen. Excitement pounded in my chest. “It’s yours?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  A little squeal escaped as I leaped to my feet. “And you can do anything you want to it? Add levels? Secret missions? Easter eggs? Character development? Expand the map and membership packages?” My business mind kicked into high gear. My gamer mind went berserk. “We can advertise to colleges, other online role players, Comic Con!”

  Nate pinched his lips into a knot and rocked on his heels. “Yep.”

  I stomped my feet.

  “I did good?”

  “You own REIGN.”

  “Yeah, but I spent, like, all my savings.”

  The numbers scrolled in my mind. He’d bankroll this investment for decades. I could help. I had connections. Marketing. Investors. “You’ll get it back.”

  “I spent all my savings,” he repeated.

  “It’s okay. This was a fantastic investment.” I paced beside him. Adrenaline zipped through my veins. “We should stop playing for the night and start making a proper business plan. There’s so much to talk about, I might get an aneurism.”

  “Well, don’t do that. Did I tell you I completely closed out my savings?”

  I nodded, ready to reassure him with numbers. “Let me call my accountant.”

  “Mia.” His giant mitt landed on my arm. “I was thinking I could use a partner to take Baxter’s place.”

  I froze. “Me?”

  “It was a lot of money. Even half is a lot. Too much to ask, I know, but...”

  I jumped on him.

  He caught me in his long arms and spun me around. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes!”

  “Thank goodness. I spent all my savings.” He finally looked appropriately concerned.

  I laughed. A wild, cartoon-villain laugh. “I’ll transfer half the amount back into your account in the morning.”

  “Thank God.” He set me on my feet. “I thought I was going to throw up when I signed the check over.”

  “We’re going to be rich, rich nerds!” I slapped him a high five. “This is exhilarating. I own REIGN.” I wandered to the kitchen and opened the freezer. “We need ice cream.”

  “You own half.” Nate climbed onto a stool at the island. “Make mine a double. Do you have chocolate syrup?”

  “Pft.” I shook my head and lined toppings on the island. “Amateur.”

  “Nice. Hey, the other thing you asked, about the murder, I’ve got nothing. I counted on Flick to give you a new lead, and I think you should let it go. Focus on your business. Businesses.” He smiled.

  “Maybe I will. All I got from Flick was a shower in his tears.” I shivered at the memory. “If I wasn’t ready to stop, though...” I made wide pleading eyes at him.

  He tapped his toe on my marble kitchen floor. “Flick exhausted our known sources close to John. You could try another avenue. Who can identify belladonna? Someone had to know what it was, what it could do and where to find it.”

  I filled two mugs with Moose Tracks and poured chocolate syrup on top of one. “I don’t know. The apothecary could have, based on the pile of books in her kitchen. Didn’t do her a ton of good, though. There’s an argument to be made for internet access. Anyone can learn and acquire anything now.”

  “Could John and the apothecary have been a murder-suicide?”

  “Maybe.” I slid a mug across the island to him. “She died on a different day. I’m no expert on murder-suicide, but it seems like she’d have gone out right after him. Right?”

  He spooned a heap of ice cream into his mouth. “I can’t even imagine what someone like that is thinking. I
’ve got nothing.”

  “I feel like I’m missing something obvious, but I can’t get my finger on it. There’s more I can do. I just can’t think of what it is.”

  “Could she have been researching his death? Could she have known he was poisoned and had time to get books on the subject?”

  “Maybe, but then why’d she die the same way?”

  “Testing the theory?”

  I poked my dessert, losing my appetite and enthusiasm simultaneously.

  Nate set his empty mug in my sink. “What do the Archers think of your continued pursuit in this matter?”

  “Dan wants me arrested for obstruction and Jake threatens me daily.”

  Nate smirked but didn’t comment.

  “Their mom and Parker, Eric Archer’s fiancée, came to the Faire tonight.”

  He slid back onto his stool with a cat-that-ate-the-canary look. “Shopping?”

  “Yea, but Parker gave me something.” I ran to my cloak and bag in the foyer and grabbed the invitation. “This.”

  Nate flipped the envelope open and wrested the invite free. “Friendsgiving.”

  “She asked me to go.”

  “And you said?”

  My laptop began a familiar tune. Someone was attempting to video chat with me.

  I exchanged confused looks with Nate. “I told her I’d try to make it. Assuming nothing came up.”

  He jogged into the living room and returned with my computer. “Oh, really? Friendsgiving is tomorrow, and you’re a liar. We’re not done with this conversation. Answer this. It’s making me crazy.” He set my laptop on the island.

  I pressed the Accept button and Fifi’s face appeared.

  She waved. “Hi, Mia!” Her gaze traveled to Nate at my side. “Hi. I’m Fifi, Mia’s new assistant. You must be the boyfriend.”

  Everyone made assumptions.

  Nate slung an arm around my shoulder. “Business partner, actually. Are you a gamer?”

  I suppressed a laugh. She looked like a Victoria’s Secret model. I hardly saw reason to suspect...

  “Absolutely!” Her face filled the screen as she leaned into the camera. “I prefer online role play to system games, except Zelda because duh Zelda, but for sure.”