Toxic

by Debra Jupe

  “You okay?”

  Ethan sighed before he answered. “If spending twenty-four hours with the police hounding me because they believe I bashed someone’s head in before I shot ’em at point blank is okay, then sure, I’m great.”

  “Talk about a twist.” His caller gave a humorless chuckle. “I’ve been trying to reach you since your release. Where’ve you been?”

  “Having a party.” He braked for a dark curve as he continued to travel at high speed on the lengthy, zigzagged, country road leading to his cabin. “A pity one.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Kinda late for you to be on the phone. Thought mama gave you a curfew.”

  “Ah, so you had some company to help you descend into your weltered disgrace.”

  Ethan wasn’t going there. He’d get scolded for being with Gracie, but no one could make him feel any worse than he already did.

  “Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” he goaded.

  “Okay, I’ll let the subject drop—for now. I’m calling about some stuff concerning Mike’s murder anyway.”

  “What kind of stuff.” Ethan’s tone was guarded.

  “Rumors are spreading like wildfire. The cops have discovered the missing plant saga. They’re speculating Mike stole his own product to write off for profit.”

  “Our cities finest. A cracker jack team of misfits.”

  “Make your wiseass jokes. They’re also guessing that you uncovered his little scheme and tried to blackmail him. The story is Mike refused to pay, an altercation occurred, and you killed him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what happened.”

  “You need to take this seriously.”

  “I’m trying,” Ethan said dully. He couldn’t even think about the homicide investigation or any other trouble he may be facing at the moment. The only thing on his mind was Gracie and what he’d done to her. “Mike was a prominent citizen and did a lot for the community. The cops are pressed to make a quick arrest, and their grasping at nothing, trying to turn nil into something. Which is where I fit in. This isn’t news to me.”

  “What makes the situation worse is this is a small town. Murders don’t occur every day, hell, they rarely have one a year, and those usually stem from domestic disputes or bar brawls. Open and shut cases. These circumstances are way beyond the local law enforcement’s capabilities.”

  “Tell me. They’re disregarding the attempts on my life.”

  “How are they explaining that away?”

  “They’re not. They just ignore the fails.” Ethan sighed. “This whole thing would be over if Mike would’ve kept his nose out of our business. And he’d still be alive.”

  “Yes, but it is what it is. His death has fucked everything up and put us back at square one.”

  Several moments of silence passed. Ethan’s fingers tensed around the steering wheel, sensing the next subject would be a topic he didn’t care to discuss.

  “What about you and Gracie Desoto?” his caller asked timidly. “Is your little romance still ongoing or did you end things?”

  And there it was.

  “What’s to end?” He didn’t need another reminder of Gracie. He refused to talk about the situation because the usefulness no longer existed. They were done. “Why do you keep harping on the woman? She was a minor distraction, that’s all. No romance.”

  “Good. You can’t afford any diversions. Even small ones.”

  “No shit,” Ethan barked, then more calmly asked, “So what’s the next move? Or am I excluded from new information since I’m generating a ton of unwanted attention?”

  “We meet tomorrow night, ten-thirty. Haven’t heard a word about you being ousted so I’m guessing you’re still in. You should be careful, though. I don’t need to tell you our fearless leader is less than happy with your involvement with the cops.”

  “As if I had a choice.” Ethan slowed, guiding the truck toward his extended drive. He flipped to his high beams. The bright lights bounced, fronting his pickup over the bumpy pathway. “This whole thing smells like rotted meat. I’m being set up. I’d sure like to find out who pointed the police in my direction.”

  “Probably the same person who tried to kill you.”

  “My thinking exactly. Someone wants me out, one way or another. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out the scum. Only a handful of people were aware of my meeting with Mike.” Ethan swallowed. “I thought everyone was trustworthy.”

  “Apparently someone isn’t.”

  “I want a few minutes alone with whoever is trying to ruin or end my life.” Ethan put the gear in park and switched the key to off. “Let’s get together before we meet with everyone else.”

  “Got some ideas?”

  “Call it a hunch.”

  ****

  Gracie struggled through the office entrance, her arms packed with the usual amount of work she’d taken home, plus a wardrobe change and accessories.

  Betty peered over her glasses. She leaped from her chair, triggering it to roll backward, the wheels rotated with a high squeal. She rushed to her. “Why didn’t you holler for me, missy?” She yanked the door wider, relieving her of a pair of heals Gracie had crooked between two fingers. “What’s with the duds?”

  Gracie carried a hanging bag to a coat rack and hooked her suit over the peg. She dropped her make-up kit then she took her shoes from Betty and set them next to the stand. “Mike’s service is today.”

  “That’s right. I heard the funeral is this afternoon.” Betty picked up her cup and scuffled to the coffee pot for a refill. “I’m bettin’ there’ll be a huge turnout. You better leave early.”

  “I plan to.”

  Mug overflowing, Betty carefully maneuvered behind her desk. “Is your man going?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  Betty’s eyebrows rose. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “We’re over,” she said as if having her heart broke happened all the time.

  “Tell me everything.”

  Gracie had realized she and Ethan were nothing except sex. He used her. These past few days taught her something. She couldn’t do just the physical. She’d developed feelings despite his secrecy, his constant disappearing, and his episodes.

  Nevertheless, she wouldn’t dwell on this. She would allow herself to sting for a while. Then she was on a mission to forget this man. Betty was about to be disappointed.

  Gracie lifted a shoulder. “Nothing to tell.”

  “Your break up came from somewhere.”

  “We had a fling.” She averted her eyes. “We’re done and yes, I’m a little upset because I thought things would last longer.” She shrugged again. “Wasn’t in the cards. I’ll be fine. I made sure I didn’t get attached.”

  Betty glared. “Eleanor Grace Hays Desoto.”

  Gracie’s head shot up.

  “You did not have a casual hook up, and you’re not a little upset nor will you be fine anytime soon.”

  When the woman spewed full names, she meant business. She released a reluctant sigh. Gracie may as well spill, though Betty probably already figured the situation out.

  “I don’t understand. He shows up at my house last night, unannounced, saying he wanted to see me and he missed me. We talked a while and then we…”

  “Had sex.” Betty finished.

  “Right. After he had a nightmare. Not the first one.” She stopped to choose her words. “His dreams are—violent.” She gazed at Betty, fighting an assault of tears she’d been holding back since he’d left her. “I woke up with his fingers clutched around my neck.”

  “Oh, Gracie.” Her voice sounded distressed, although her expression revealed something else. “This is so terrible, but I warned you to stay away from him.”

  Gracie ignored her “I told you so” comment. “He was in the military, Special Forces, stationed in Afghanistan. He didn’t clue me in on the details, though he did tell me he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. He’s had treatment and was fine for a while, but Mike�
�s murder has set his illness off again.”

  “Poor man.” Betty’s cloud of gray hair shook. “How horrible for both of you. Does he plan on returning to the doctor?”

  “I’m not sure.” A sudden foreboded sensation tightened in Gracie’s chest at the memory of his evident distress. His eyes holding painful memories that would never fade, haunted her. “Betty, I’m concerned. I want to help, but he, he won’t let me.”

  “You can’t press the man. They aren’t like us women. They scare easy, and he’s definitely frightened with these awful things hanging over his head. He’s in no position to be with you. As a matter of fact, the boy didn’t have any business coming to you last night. I’ve said this already, but you don’t need to be involved with this young man, at least until Mike’s death is solved.”

  Gracie shut her eyes, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “There is something else.” She raised her lids and stared at Betty. “If he’s suffering from PTSD, then what if he did lose control during a confrontation with Mike.” She halted. “What if…”

  Her secretary shook her head as she picked up a package of sugar from a small bowl she kept on her desk. “What’s your gut tell you? Do you really believe him a killer?”

  “I don’t think so. The bottom line is he probably doesn’t want to be with a woman whose ten year’s older than him, and he’s trying to blow me off nicely.”

  “That’s your excuse.” She jiggled the packet, tore it open, and dumped the white granules into her cup. “He said he missed you and wanted to see you. He showed up to be with you. He needed you. Plain and simple. Watch what he does instead of listening to his words. Appreciate he was honest enough to share with you what he’s going through. That should help you decide.”

  “He left me, remember? The actions make everything clear.”

  “You’re right. While he might want you, hopefully he cares enough for you not to drag you into his mess.” Betty picked up a plastic spoon placed nearby and stirred her coffee. “With any luck the police will have the same impression and keep you out of it.”

  Gracie fidgeted. “I asked him about that. He assures me the authorities aren’t aware we were together on the night of the murder, so they won’t be bothering me.”

  Betty’s expression turned grave as she observed Gracie for a long time. “That changes things.”

  “Why?”

  “On the surface that looks all well and fine. But you be on your guard. If he were so innocent why wouldn’t he tell them about you?”

  “He says he didn’t kill Mike,” Gracie said almost defensively. “Two attempts were made on his life, too. The police are ignoring that little factor.”

  “Gracie, I don’t know if your man murdered anyone, or anything about someone trying to kill him, but something doesn’t ring right. The man’s hiding more than he’s sharing. He’s up to something. Probably something no good.”

  Chapter 18

  Mike’s service was nothing short of a mob. Even though she’d left early, Gracie was forced to park several blocks over and hike on foot in one hundred plus degree heat and in high heels no less, to get to the chapel.

  Thankfully, Krystal had saved her a spot or she would’ve been stuck in the crammed standing room only section on the second floor. She maneuvered past Quinn to squeeze in between Krystal and Vivian, lowering into her seat with a thankful sigh.

  Eyes swollen and nose red, Vivian plucked several tissues from a box in her lap and passed them to Gracie. “In case you get overly emotional.”

  Gracie murmured thanks, needing the tissue more to mop her brow still covered with perspiration from her trek over rather than for tears.

  “Glad you made it,” Krystal whispered.

  “I thought I wasn’t going to.” She combed the crowd, spotting numerous familiar faces. “I knew there’d be a lot of people, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Mike was a popular guy,” Krystal said.

  Quinn stuck her head around Krystal. “Plus the fact he’s the first person in this town whose murder is,” she raised both hands using her front two fingers for air quotes, “unsolved”. Got a few folks curious.”

  “Why do you say it like that, Quinn?” Krystal adjusted Gracie’s collar, which evidently had gone cockeyed when she’d hurriedly slipped it on walking into the chapel.

  Gracie knew what Quinn referred but chose to let the remark pass.

  After last night, she was in no mood for a confrontation with anyone, especially this annoying woman. She searched the swarm again, taking in the hordes of mourners. Mike was a pillar of the community, but she had no idea he had this many admirers.

  Quinn leaned forward and gave her a sly smile. “He’s not here, Gracie.”

  Gracie frowned, again knowing full well to whom Quinn referred and not liking the implication one bit. “Who’s not here?”

  “Ethan.”

  “I didn’t expect him to be.” Gracie placed a palm over her heart. “Not under the circumstances.” Her fingers skimmed up her chest, and lightly stroked her neck as she shoved the memories of the previous evening from her thoughts.

  “Heard the DA is taking the evidence police collected to the grand jury,” Quinn continued. “Your sweetie is about to be arrested for Mike’s murder.”

  Gracie’s heart squeezed, her body tensed. Quinn caught her frames visible rigidness and flashed a shrewd smile, aware she’d gotten to Gracie. “Unless he’s disappeared again.” Her grin grew as she thrust the verbal blade in deeper.

  “Quinn, this is not the time or place,” Krystal scolded.

  Vivian patted Gracie’s arm. “Ignore her. She’s green because Ethan wanted to be with you, and he never once noticed her.”

  Though Vivian had a point, she couldn’t close her eyes to Quinn’s insinuation. Talk about surreal. The man she’d slept with last night may’ve killed the man whose funeral she was attending today.

  The possibility of Ethan being arrested played on her mind throughout the entire service, and she wondered if the evidence they had against him was solid. She didn’t want to believe he was capable of killing anyone, but after what happened the evening before, how could she not consider the possibility? She had to be realistic. Except, she’d also experienced a tender side of him. His violence only transpired during his sleep, so, did that mean…she didn’t understand any of this.

  After the minister said the final prayer, the mass of people gathered in the aisles. Every exit passage was clogged as grievers pushed to extend their condolences to Mike’s two sons.

  Krystal snatched Gracie by the arm and dragged her through a less crowded side door. “Hope you didn’t want to pay your respects to the family,” Krystal remarked, as they walked outside with Quinn and Vivian trailing them. “I’m past ready to vacate.”

  Gracie released a wry chuckle. “I’m always willing to leave a funeral.”

  “Me too, unless it’s my own. Then I’m not sure I’ll want to get out so fast.”

  “This place is worse than a circus,” Quinn said. “I wonder if these funeral goers are actually acquainted with Mike or if they’re here to gawk.”

  “Mike was well-known.” Vivian sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Those who didn’t know him in life want to get close to him in death. It’s not uncommon.”

  “Is anyone going to the cemetery?” Krystal asked.

  “Yes, I need to tell him goodbye one more time.” Vivian wadded another soaked tissue.

  Vivian had wept incessantly since Mike’s death. She’d been infatuated with the man for many years, making her feelings known once his wife died after a long illness. Though her sentiments were unreciprocated, she remained a loyal, trusted employee, and friend to the family. Hopefully she’d move on now.

  “Why don’t we meet at the gravesite? Afterward let’s celebrate Mike’s life with dinner and a drink in his honor,” Krystal suggested. “I’m thinking maybe we ought to check out the nursery tonight, too, so we can do that after we eat.”

  “I’m all
for food and a toast to Mike; hell, I’m good to go to the grave now,” Quinn said. “I don’t get the point hanging out at the plant farm at night, especially since the police already got their man insight. We might be asking for trouble if we messed with any evidence.”

  Gracie hated to agree with Quinn, yet she wasn’t sure about going to the nursery after dark either. The homicide occurred in the evening hours, and since she didn’t want to believe Ethan a killer, then whoever did commit the murder remained on the loose.

  Krystal’s nose wrinkled, squinting against the sun “Don’t we want to find out if Ethan’s the actual killer? Or if thieves are still taking the plants? It’d be nice to clear Mike’s name and prove he wasn’t stealing his own stuff for cash.”

  Despite what happened with Ethan, Gracie would also love to establish his innocence, too. Not so much for him, or for the time they’d spent together, but for her peace of mind.

  Quinn folded her arms over her chest wearing a defiant expression on her face. “If the district attorney thinks they got the proof to prosecute Ethan, then that’s good enough for me.”

  “The DA is human.” Vivian sounded annoyed, like she was tired of Quinn’s constant harping on Ethan’s potential apprehension. “Humans make mistakes.”

  Quinn gave her a sharp look. “Not this time.”

  “He hasn’t been arrested yet,” Gracie put in, aggravated at Quinn’s constant goading.

  “The more I think about it, the more I question Ethan’s guilt.” Krystal smiled at Gracie. “I mean, yeah, he could be responsible on paper, but the police seemed to have tied this case up in a neat, giant bow. Something’s off. I don’t believe for a second Mike tried to commit fraud by stealing his own inventory. Those missing plants played a part in his death. Homicide isn’t going to dig any deeper. We should explore other options as opposed to accepting Ethan’s to blame.”

  “Krystal’s right,” Vivian put in. “We need to get to the bottom of this. Mike deserves to have his real killer locked away for good.”

  Krystal’s gaze jumped from Gracie to Quinn. “We’re in agreement? Cemetery, dinner, and then we scope out the nursery.”