One Taste Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  “Where did they take her?”

  “Wheaton General,” the EMT working on Marcus replied.

  “Thanks.” She was relieved the ambulance wasn’t rushing her to the University of Alabama Hospital in Birmingham. If she’d been badly burnt or hurt, she’d have been taken there. Her only thought now was hurrying to Emily.

  “Sarah.” The gravelly voice belonged to Marcus.

  She tried to get through the group of people working on him but couldn’t.

  “Please, I need to speak to her. Please.”

  Someone shifted her position to let Sarah near him.

  Marcus looked at Sarah with glazed-over eyes. “Tell Emily, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Sarah knelt beside him. “Why, Marcus? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I opened the back door of the kitchen and there was a loud whoosh. Flames jumped into the kitchen. The fire moved so fast near where we were working. Cabinet doors and things on shelves started falling. I tried to shield her, but . . .”

  Rough hands pushed Sarah away. Others helped him into an ambulance. Sarah took one more look around before she ran to get her car. Her sister needed her.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sarah tried to get her bearings in the emergency room. It was a zoo. Clumps of people, who obviously had come from the shopping center fire, were interspersed with run-of-the-mill emergency room patients. She didn’t see her sister anywhere, so she pushed her way to the front desk and asked for Emily. The triage nurse, who Sarah faintly recognized as someone she’d gone to high school with, sent her back to room three.

  The first thing Sarah saw in room three was Peter’s back. He obscured Sarah’s view of Emily. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you already browbeat Emily enough?”

  “Hi, Sarah.” He stepped aside so she could reach Emily’s side.

  Sarah gazed at her sister. Soot stained her face. The few exposed parts of skin on her face were redder than usual, but Sarah didn’t see any major burns or wounds.

  “Are you okay?”

  Peter answered for her. “She was one lucky girl. They’ve already checked her out thoroughly and, while they think she inhaled some smoke, not enough to do any major damage. The doctor is writing a prescription for an inhaler and some salves. You’ll be able to take her home in a little while.”

  Ignoring him, Sarah addressed her sister. “Does anything hurt?”

  Emily pointed to her throat.

  “Other than a raw throat and some redness to her face that’s no worse than a sunburn, the doctors say she’s fine.” Peter smiled.

  “Marcus saved me. He pushed me away from the flames and covered me with his body, but I guess I fainted. Is he . . . ?”

  “He’s okay, too. I talked to him in the parking lot. You both were lucky.”

  “Is he here?”

  “I don’t know. He was being put in an ambulance when I left. Now that I know you’re safe, I’ll try to get you an update on his condition. Do you want to come with me, Peter?”

  “Sure. I’m finished here.”

  Sarah was surprised at how quickly Peter acquiesced to her invitation.

  He took a step toward the door but turned back and faced Emily. He fumbled with his cap. “Emily, I’m really glad you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.” Emily lay back on the pillow.

  Sarah shot a look at her docile sister. “I’ll be right there, Peter.”

  “Um, I’ll be outside the door.”

  After he left, the twins looked at each other and tried not to giggle. “He hasn’t changed since he used to come over to the house. I do believe he still has a sweet spot for you, Emily.”

  “I think you’re wrong on that. Besides, he’s married and has a family.”

  “They’re separated or divorced. But that’s not what’s important right now. What did he want?”

  “He was only doing his job. Peter wanted to know my version of what happened, even though he probably thinks Marcus or I burned down Southwind for the insurance money.”

  “Did you?”

  Emily sat up on the gurney, her blues eyes glaring against her reddened skin. “How can you ask that? Marcus saved my life. Do you think he’s the type of person who would chance hurting other people? The restaurant was full of customers and staff.”

  Sarah glanced at the door. Three bets Peter was trying to listen to their conversation. She leaned in to Emily.

  “You’re the one who suggested it and who’s been afraid he might have killed Bill.” She pointed at the door.

  Emily nodded. “I was just rambling about Marcus considering that because Bill was ruining the restaurant,” she whispered back, apparently understanding Sarah’s concern about Peter. “Marcus would never risk the lives of innocent people. Besides, with Bill dead, Southwind is in the best financial shape ever. He might not be able to move into one of the old houses immediately like Bill and he planned, but the last thing Marcus would do is burn down the restaurant now.”

  She lay down again. “I think Peter is as perplexed as I am about what happened.” Emily turned her face to the wall. “I’m tired. Would you please go find out about Marcus?”

  True to his word, Peter was in the hallway, just outside the door. Sarah couldn’t decide if he was being genuine or playing good cop to take advantage of an old friendship. She started toward the nurse’s station, but he stopped her.

  “I’ve already checked on Marcus. He’s here and he’ll be fine, but they are going to hold him tonight for observation.”

  “Why?”

  “Smoke inhalation and a hairline shoulder fracture where he deflected some falling debris from Emily.”

  “Will they need to operate?”

  “No, but he’s looking at about six weeks in a sling and some PT.” Peter bent his foot back against the wall. “At least it’s his nondominant arm.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go tell Emily.” The two of them stared at each other without speaking until Sarah added, “Unless you want to.”

  “No, I . . .” He again played with his hat. “I’m not the bad guy you’ve been making me out to be.”

  “I never said you were.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced in both directions down the hallway. Sarah did the same, hoping someone was coming. His behavior was getting her nervous.

  “Look, I know you think I’ve been unreasonable about Emily, but I’ve had to follow the evidence.”

  “Don’t tell me you think she torched Southwind.”

  Peter shook his head. “No. I don’t think so, but I still can’t rule her out completely. My gut says today gives credibility to what she’s been saying all along. The problem is someone deliberately set the fire and, once again, Emily was there at the critical time.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t tell anyone else, but there’s evidence someone started a fire behind the kitchen by putting smoldering coals in the Dumpster area.”

  “But the fire was in the kitchen?”

  “A gas can either in or next to the Dumpster exploded and caught the kitchen on fire. The fire marshal is investigating. He thinks someone deliberately placed coals on the Dumpster, perhaps as a prank to get the fire department called and the restaurant emptied out.”

  “But you mentioned a gas can explosion.”

  “Right. We don’t know if the gas can was the ignition source or just happened to be in the Dumpster. Either way, the fire ran up the can and it exploded. If the can was happenstance, they still have to rule out whether Marcus opened the door to the kitchen at just the right moment or it simply was a bad prank outcome.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When Marcus opened the door, the air draft may have pulled the fire in that direction. If the coals on the Dumpster were merely a distraction, then, when they finish sorting through things in the kitchen, they may find some other ignition source in the kitchen itself. Either way, once the flames hit the kitchen, there were more than enough fuel sources to d
estroy the kitchen quickly.”

  “Could it have been both?”

  “Possibly. Right now, everything is speculation.”

  “I need to tell Emily.”

  He moved from the wall and cut her off. “No, you can’t. Until we know more, you can’t share this with anyone.” He peered down the hall again. He hushed her from interrupting him. “I’m telling you because I’m scared for Emily. I’ve known Emily too long to believe she could possibly kill either Bill or Richard, let alone both, and yet, all the evidence has pointed that way. Try as I might, until tonight, I haven’t been able to prove anything to the contrary.”

  “So, what’s different tonight?”

  “Everything is too simple for me to find it credible.”

  Sarah waited for him to explain further.

  “Emily has a solid alibi for most of today and this evening. Whether she was in custody, with Harlan or you, or working in front of the staff and customers at Southwind, most of her time is accounted for.” He ran his hand through his hat-head hair. “What’s also evident to me is that if she’d been killed, everything would have been tied up with too pretty a knot.”

  “So, someone’s trying to frame her.”

  Peter nodded. “If Emily died, my department could close the two cases against her based upon the evidence in our possession without the truth ever being known. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “Or me.” A thought crossed Sarah’s mind, exciting her. “Peter, have you checked on Jane’s whereabouts? She wasn’t working tonight.”

  “Sarah, please, leave the investigative work to me. I have someone checking that out. Take Emily home with you and don’t let her out of your sight. You need to be each other’s keepers until I can figure out what’s going on.”

  Now it was Sarah’s turn to brace herself against the wall. “Each other’s keepers?”

  “I know it sounds dramatic,” he said, as a nurse carrying papers headed in their direction. “But if I assume, as you have all along, that Emily is innocent, I don’t know who you two should trust, except me.”

  “No offense, Peter, from what you’ve said and I’ve seen, I’m not sure our trust circle is big enough to include you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Kitchen clatter woke Sarah. She opened and closed her eyes, knowing her few hours of sleep were ended, but she didn’t move for fear of disturbing the warm mound pressed against her thigh. There was no knowing how long RahRah would stay still, but Sarah wanted to relish their last minutes before Jane came for him. “RahRah, if this was a movie, the governor would be coming through with a reprieve for you any minute.”

  “Unfortunately, it isn’t.”

  Sarah reluctantly opened her eyes.

  Emily, her face glistening from the aloe vera salve the doctor had given her, stood across the room setting two places at the table. “Get your sorry selves out of bed. It’s a beautiful day. Besides, breakfast is almost ready.”

  Emily turned back to the stove on which Sarah could see an iron skillet sitting. “I’ve made us a frittata using what we picked up last night.”

  “A frittata?

  “Think of it as a special omelet or a crustless quiche with meat or vegetables. Ours has shrimp and vegetables. Hurry up, it’s almost ready.”

  Sarah jumped up and headed toward the bathroom. “Give me a moment to get washed.”

  The doorbell rang while she brushed her teeth. She groaned, spit, and grabbed a towel to wipe a blob of toothpaste from her mouth. With one last look at herself, Sarah walked out of the bathroom. Red-faced from climbing the steps, Jane stood in the center of the room next to one of the largest animal carriers Sarah had ever seen.

  “I didn’t expect you until later today. If you’d let me know you were coming this early, I would have met you so you didn’t have to carry that monstrosity all the way up my stairs.”

  Jane rested her hand on the plastic top of the carrier. “The early bird catches the worm or, in this case, rescues her cat. Where is my little love?” Both Jane and Sarah peered around the room, but RahRah wasn’t lying anywhere in the open preening himself.

  “He dashed under the bed when you came in, Jane,” Emily said. “Have you had breakfast yet? I just made a frittata and there’s plenty for all three of us.”

  She carried the skillet by Jane, who eyed its contents, as Emily put it on the table.

  “No, thanks. You do know that using a dairy product would have given you a more airy and creamy texture, darling.” Jane drew the last word out as though it had more than two syllables.

  “It looks good to me.” Sarah sat at the table.

  Emily joined her.

  Jane cleared her throat. “My cat.”

  “Oh, how silly of me.” Sarah stayed at the table. “I thought you might want to coax RahRah out from under the bed and play with him for awhile. After all, you’ve never been around each other so I don’t think throwing him right into that cage would be the best idea. My bad for assuming. You know what they say about the word ‘assume.’”

  “I do, but I don’t really care. Will you please get my cat?”

  “Certainly.” Sarah rose but made no effort to go near the bed. If Jane wanted RahRah more quickly, let her get him herself. She wasn’t going to do anything to make this easier for Jane.

  Instead of retrieving RahRah, she went to the corner where she’d left the box of miscellaneous cat things she’d put together for Jane. She brought the box back, set it on the carrier, and reached into it. “I thought you might need a few things to get started taking care of RahRah, especially with being busy with today’s Food Expo competition.”

  Jane’s lips were as tight as her back as she watched Sarah take food and toys from the box.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot, cats like to scratch and RahRah is no different.” She opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the scratching post and the bag of food she’d originally decided not to give Jane. She couldn’t begrudge RahRah any of his comforts.

  “I don’t need those used things.”

  Used, Sarah thought. The things RahRah knew and loved were used things?

  “I bought RahRah new food, toys, and this travel carrier at the Pet Place last night. Now, my cat, please.”

  “I forgot you missed the excitement at Southwind last night.”

  Jane frowned. She tapped her fingers on the carrier. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was out shopping last night so I’d have everything I need to bring RahRah home.”

  “We had a fire at the restaurant last night,” Emily said.

  “Well, there couldn’t have been much damage if you’re here.” Jane turned away from Emily and called out RahRah’s name a few times. No cat magically appeared. “Sarah, enough of this game. I don’t know where you’re hiding RahRah, but I want him now!”

  “The restaurant was pretty badly damaged. Marcus is in the hospital.”

  “I hadn’t heard. I better get RahRah and find out what’s been going on.”

  Sarah slowly glanced around the apartment surprised RahRah wasn’t standing in the middle of the room with them. This was the moment of truth. Sarah couldn’t give him away just yet, so she continued to stall. “Are you sure about the scratching post? Don’t you think you should take something he loves so the scent is comforting to him in his new home?”

  She picked up the toy mouse and held it out to Jane. “This is his favorite.”

  When Jane made no effort to reach for the mouse, Sarah let the toy drop to the floor and moved closer to where Emily sat at the table.

  Jane scowled at Sarah and bent down on one knee and peeked under the bed. “There you are. Come here, RahRah.” She reached for him. “I can’t reach him. You try.”

  “Well, I don’t know if my arms are any longer than yours.”

  Sarah and Jane stood beside the bed in a standoff.

  Shaking her head, Emily gave in first. “I don’t believe you two.” She reached under the bed and coaxed RahRah o
ut. She held him close, rubbing his head. His ears perked up. Slowly, Emily handed RahRah to Sarah, who bent her head into his fur.

  “Hey, little guy, I’m going to miss you. You’re going back to the house you lived in with Mother Blair. You’ll have a lot more room to run and play than you’ve had here, but don’t forget what we talked about.”

  “Get a life, Sarah. Come on, I’ve got to get going. Put him in the carrier, please.”

  Sarah held RahRah out to Jane. “I can’t put him in that hard plastic cage. You’ll have to do that yourself. He’s not one for confinement or change, so maybe you should take a few minutes and make nice to him. Let him become accustomed to you.”

  Jane made no move to take RahRah from her. Sarah put him on the bed, keeping a hand on him, preventing him dive-bombing underneath it again. She couldn’t believe Jane wouldn’t even pet him. Maybe they could use Jane’s unwillingness to show him love against her in court but, for RahRah’s sake, she hoped Jane would warm up to him. “Why don’t you sit on my bed for a moment and let him get to know you?”

  Jane grimaced but sat. When she finally hooked her finger under the edge of his little red leather collar, Sarah backed off.

  “I didn’t realize cats wear collars. I thought you only put them on dogs.”

  “No. People use them for cats, too. I’ve heard of people who actually connect a leash and walk their cats, but most hang identification tags from the collars or use them to dress their cats up.” Sarah rummaged through the cardboard box until she pulled out a plastic bag filled with collars. She grabbed a few from the bag and held them up for Jane to see.

  “I remember this red, white, and blue one. Mother Blair always had RahRah wear it for the Fourth of July. She loved changing his collar to match her outfits or for holidays. RahRah has quite a collection.”

  Sarah leaned over and started to remove the torn red collar.

  “What are you doing?” Jane asked as Sarah finished unhooking the collar.