by B. J Daniels
Cyanide was a common poison and yet he still wondered if his cover was blown. If this was Keller’s way of letting him know that he’d found him.
Nick felt that old panic rise in him. He couldn’t bear the idea of being responsible for another innocent person’s life.
He’d leave town. He could be gone from this place in a matter of minutes. He’d traveled light getting here. He could travel even lighter leaving.
He tamped down his fear. Keller was desperate. He was through playing games. He would just kill Nick and get it over with. Why kill some poor woman instead? It made no sense.
Nick tried to relax. With the sheriff in Florida, Nick was tempted to call in a state investigator to help with the case, but he feared that would only attract more attention to the case—and him, something he couldn’t do.
Busy with the murder Saturday afternoon, Nick hadn’t done surveillance at the bars as he’d planned and there’d been another attack. Same MO as the others. The assailant had used a baseball bat.
“Do you know who baked the cookies?” the coroner asked.
Nick nodded. Laci Cavanaugh. He thought of her sister Laney. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten to dance with her. Which, all things considered, was probably a blessing in disguise. He couldn’t let it slip his mind that Keller would be frantically looking for him. Nick’s days here were numbered. As soon as he got the call, he’d be gone as quickly as he’d appeared in Montana.
“Unfortunately, the cookie was smashed in Geraldine Shaw’s hand so we have no way of knowing how the cyanide got into the cookie.”
Which meant anyone at the party could have doctored the macaroon.
Nick thanked the coroner and headed for Old Town Whitehorse and the Cavanaughs.
* * *
“POISONED?” LANEY CAVANAUGH couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d been sitting on the porch when she’d seen dust in the distance. Her first reaction to seeing the patrol car coming up the road had been a flutter of excitement. Her heart had kicked up a beat at just the sight of Nick as he’d climbed out.
She stood now, going to stand at the porch railing, looking out at the country, but seeing nothing through her fear. “I thought Geraldine had a heart attack?”
“I’m going to need to talk to your sister,” he said, joining her at the railing.
“You don’t really believe that Laci poisoned that woman!” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.
“Frankly, all I know is that Geraldine Shaw was poisoned by a macaroon that your sister baked.”
“What was her motive?” Laney demanded, turning to look at him.
“You tell me.”
Laney was reminded of Geraldine’s visit just before the party. “We barely know Geraldine Shaw.” Unfortunately though, Geraldine had accused their cousin of taking her diamond bracelet. Not that it had anything to do with this.
She saw him glance to where Laci’s car was usually parked, the space empty.
“Laci went into town.”
“When will she be back?”
“I’m not sure. I hope you’re looking into other suspects.”
“Such as?” he asked. He had the darkest eyes.
Laney shook her head. She didn’t have a clue who might have a grudge against poor Geraldine Shaw, let alone who would want to kill her. She shuddered at even the thought of one of Laci’s cookies containing poison.
“Where were you when Geraldine Shaw collapsed?”
She thought for a moment. “I had gone over to see if Laci needed any help.”
“So you were behind the tables or in front of them?”
“I was standing at the end.”
“And what was Laci doing?”
Laney tried to picture it in her mind. “She was refilling the dishes with the desserts and fretting because she wished she’d made more of some things than others.”
“Such as?”
“The bite-size chocolate-covered cherry cheesecakes and—” She stopped and looked at him. “The macaroons. There was only one left on the plate. Earlier I’d seen Violet Evans stuffing her face and her pockets. Laci was about to refill the plate when someone picked it up.”
“You don’t remember who?”
She shook her head. “Violet was standing there with her mother. I saw Charlotte join them. Laci was reaching for the plate to refill it when someone took the last macaroon.”
“Geraldine Shaw,” he said. “Did you hear anyone offer her the cookie?”
Laney shook her head. “The band had started up again and everyone was talking.”
“So the poisoned macaroon could have been meant for someone farther down the table even past Arlene. You remember who was standing next to her?”
“Sorry.”
He nodded. “Please have your sister give me a call when she gets back.” The deputy sheriff put his hat back on, then hesitated. “I’m sorry we didn’t get that dance,” he said, then gave her a quick nod and left before she could say, “Me, too.”
Laney watched his vehicle disappear down the dirt road, dust billowing up behind it, before she hurried into the house to get her car keys.
* * *
ARLENE EVANS WAS FURIOUS. It was so like Geraldine Shaw to have a heart attack at Bo’s engagement party of all places. If the woman wasn’t feeling well she should have excused herself. Geraldine had spoiled everything in more ways than one.
To make matters worse, Arlene’s Rural Montana Meet-a-Mate Internet dating service wasn’t taking off. Everyone she’d talked to didn’t want their photo and personal information out there for just anyone to see.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered as she stared at her computer. Nothing was going right. Bo and Maddie had gotten into a fight right after the ambulance had pulled away with Geraldine—and Bo had taken off angry.
Not that Arlene could blame him. She just wanted to know if they were broken up for good. She always thought Bo could do better. Case in point: This morning Violet had announced she’d seen Maddie at the bar again last night dancing with anyone and everyone. Surely there was a better match for Bo.
Arlene glanced at her camera sitting next to her computer. She’d gotten some good shots of the guests before Geraldine had taken her swan dive under the dessert table. As she hooked the digital camera up to the computer and started going through the photographs looking for a possible match for her son, she got an idea.
She knew everyone in the county, knew more personal things about them than anyone else. And now she had photographs of a lot of the rural singles. They were just shy about her new business. Once they started getting called for dates, they’d thank her.
Arlene began to scan in the photographs, getting more excited as she went. She’d get money from the suitors. She wouldn’t make as much this way, but she had to get her business going, and she had to find Violet a husband and Bo a better woman to marry.
She scanned in the photo of Violet at the party. Why had her daughter worn that horrible jumper? It just made her look bigger and fatter. Oh well, at least she’d changed before she’d gone into town last night with her sister.
Arlene cropped the photo and put it up, adding as glowing information as she could about her oldest daughter.
Then she flipped through the other candid photos she’d taken and stopped on one in particular. Deputy Sheriff Nick Rogers. She didn’t know a lot about him, but she could always wing it.
She put his photo up on the dating site. Like the others, he’d thank her when she found him the woman of his dreams.
* * *
MADDIE CAVANAUGH STILL LIVED with her parents in a farmhouse outside of Old Town Whitehorse. Nick found it at the end of a dusty road in the middle of nowhere.
He noticed as he pulled into the yard that Maddie’s car,
the one he’d seen her driving the day she’d stopped by the sheriff’s department, wasn’t parked in the yard.
No one seemed to be home today. He started to turn around when the screen door opened. The woman in the doorway was fifty-something, blond and blue-eyed.
He climbed out of his patrol car and walked toward the porch. The sun beat down, baking the earth beneath his feet. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Nick Rogers. I was looking for Maddie Cavanaugh.”
“Maddie? I’m sorry but she’s not here.” The woman introduced herself as Maddie’s mother, Sarah Cavanaugh.
“Do you know where she is?” he asked, still worried about her. The murder of Geraldine Shaw had sidetracked him. But if anything, he was more concerned about Maddie Cavanaugh after that little scene he’d witnessed between her and Arlene Evans, her future mother-in-law.
“She stayed with a friend in Whitehorse last night. Wasn’t that just dreadful about Geraldine collapsing like that? No one knew she had a bad heart. Why, she wasn’t that much older than me.”
He didn’t tell her that Geraldine’s heart had been fine before she’d been poisoned. “Can you give me the name of this friend Maddie stayed with?”
“Why, you know I didn’t even ask. She has lots of friends and stays at different places when she goes into town,” Sarah said frowning. “Why do you need to see my daughter?”
“I’m questioning anyone who was close to Geraldine,” he said.
“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t say Maddie was close to her. I mean, Maddie helped her out from time to time. Geraldine paid her some measly amount. Geraldine was tightfisted and not close to anyone in Old Town. She stayed to herself mostly. I think she quilted with the women from the Whitehorse Sewing Circle....”
“You don’t?”
“Me?” She seemed surprised by the question. “My mother did and her mother before her, but I found it all rather boring. I had too much to do raising my daughter and taking care of my home to spend a bunch of time sitting around with old women talking about the weather. My aunt Pearl, well, that’s another story.”
Nick could see that the house behind him was immaculate. He imagined Sarah Cavanaugh spent her days keeping it that way.
“Well, I appreciate your time. I’ll try to catch Maddie later,” he said.
“All right.” There was a vagueness about Sarah Cavanaugh, like someone who’d spent too much time alone. He wondered what other farm and ranch women did during the day. Like Arlene Evans.
* * *
LANEY DROVE OVER to Geraldine Shaw’s house. When she’d called Maddie earlier, her cousin had said that was where she was headed.
The women of the community always gathered to do whatever was needed in a time of crisis. Had her grandmother been able, she would have been at Geraldine’s as well. Geraldine’s husband Ollie had been dead for a little less than a year now. The widow had lived alone and as far as Laney knew, had no living relatives. There would be animals to feed, a refrigerator to be cleaned out, watering to be done. And a will to be read.
Maddie’s car was parked in the yard along with a variety of other rigs. As Laney let herself in, she saw Maddie sitting in a corner, the rest of the local women scattered around the room.
At the center stood a man in a dark suit. He looked uncomfortable in a room filled with women. His suit and demeanor alone made him stand out in Old Town Whitehorse as either an insurance salesman or a lawyer.
Laney sat down next to her cousin. Maddie took her hand and squeezed it, eyes welling in gratitude.
“As Mrs. Shaw’s attorney, I can tell you that before her death she made provisions for the disposal of her possessions as well as her house and property,” the man said.
Laney looked down at Maddie’s hand gripping hers. There were new bruises on her cousin’s wrist. Laney winced at the sight of them. She was glad at least that Maddie wasn’t wearing the missing diamond bracelet. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to her cousin about Geraldine’s visit yesterday. In the chaos after Geraldine’s collapse, Maddie had disappeared and now certainly wasn’t the time to try to talk to her.
“Since Mrs. Shaw had no living relatives,” the attorney continued, “she has left her house and property to the Whitehorse Sewing Circle to be used as they see fit.”
There was a murmur of surprise among the women.
“That is very generous,” Alice Miller said to the nods of the other women.
The attorney cleared his throat. “As for her personal belongings, some jewelry and what money Mrs. Shaw had accumulated, those are to go to a Ms. Madeline Renée Cavanaugh.”
Maddie burst into tears.
* * *
AS NICK WAS LEAVING Sarah Cavanaugh’s house in the country, he got a call from one of the deputies that the man who’d been attacked behind the bar last night in Whitehorse had come in finally to file a report.
Someone had found Harvey T. Brown out behind the bar and called the sheriff’s department. Brown, a known bar brawler who hated to ever lose a fight, hadn’t wanted to make a statement because of his embarrassment at being beaten.
“Take Mr. Brown’s statement and tell him I’ll get back to him later,” Nick told the dispatcher. He was starting to see a disturbing pattern. All of the attacks had been on a Saturday night. All except one behind a crowded Whitehorse bar. The oddball one was reporter Glen Whitaker’s, but then Glen said he couldn’t remember the attack. If his was part of the pattern, then it would have been the first. Glen, Nick recalled, had been the only one to mention perfume.
“Ask Mr. Brown if he remembered anything, like a sound or a smell,” Nick said.
“Also, Laci Cavanaugh called. She said she’ll be at home if you need to reach her.”
* * *
HE FOUND LACI IN THE KITCHEN. Laney wasn’t anywhere in sight and her rental car was gone. He should have been relieved. It had been difficult earlier keeping his visit professional when what he’d really wanted to do was invite her to dinner.
“Can we talk while I cook?” Laci asked, visibly nervous. “I do better when I cook.”
“What are you making?” he asked as he watched her drop a stick of butter into a skillet on the stove and begin to chop cloves of garlic.
“Shrimp scampi. I would love to bake something for dessert, but after what happened—”
“Your sister told you that Geraldine Shaw was poisoned.”
She nodded. “I can’t believe it.”
“How well did you know Geraldine?”
“I didn’t. I mean I’ve seen her around. My grandmother knew her because she was part of the Whitehorse Sewing Circle. I don’t think I’ve ever said two words to the woman.”
“What about your grandmother? Did she get along with Geraldine?”
Laci laughed as she swept the chopped garlic into the melted butter, the scent wafting through the kitchen and making his stomach growl. “Gramma gets along with everyone. She’s one of those people who never has a bad word to say about anyone.” Laci rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. She hates gossip and won’t even allow Arlene Evans to talk about other people when she’s around.”
Laci stopped, her eyes tearing up. “You know my grandmother had a stroke and is in the hospital.”
“I’m sorry. Can you think of anyone who had a motive for killing Mrs. Shaw?”
She shook her head.
“So tell me where you were when Geraldine Shaw collapsed.”
Laci said she’d been behind the serving table setting out the desserts. “The desserts were going fast. I was worried I hadn’t made enough.”
“The macaroons?” he asked.
“When I looked there was only one left on the plate.” She shook her head as if surprised by that. “I reached for the empty plate to refill it when I heard someone gasping. When I looked up, Geraldine was on the floor and p
eople were screaming.”
“Why did you make macaroons?”
Laci frowned. “They’re Bo Evans’s favorite.”
“Who told you that?”
“His mother. Or maybe it was his sister Charlotte. Or was it Violet?” Laci shrugged. “It could have even been Maddie. I really can’t remember. But you have to believe I would never put anything bad in what I cooked. What would that do to my catering business?”
He smiled to himself at her logic, hating to point out that if she put the poison in the macaroons, she wouldn’t have to worry about her catering business. She’d be working in the prison cafeteria wearing a hairnet and making macaroni-and-cheese rather than shrimp scampi.
Laci turned to him suddenly, her eyes wide with alarm. “What is this going to do to my catering business? I mean I haven’t really started it, but when someone drops dead from one of my macaroons at the first party I cater...”
She turned back to the stove, slid several dozen fresh deveined shrimp into the skillet with the butter and garlic, then began to chop some scallions with a cleaver, seeming to lose herself in her cooking again.
He watched her, fascinated. He could see that she loved cooking and believed her that she would never use her food to kill anyone.
“Tell me about the macaroons,” he said.
“They’re an old family recipe,” she said. “My mother used to make them when Laney and I were little. It’s the only thing I remember her making for us.”
He heard the sadness in her voice. “Is your mother...?”
“Dead?” She shrugged. “One day we woke up and she was just gone. No one has seen her since.” She slid the chopped scallions into the skillet, turned off the burner and looked at her watch.
“Expecting someone for lunch?” he asked.
“My sister and cousin. They should be here any minute.” She must have heard his stomach growl. “You’re joining us, aren’t you? I always make extra.”
* * *
LANEY DIDN’T GET A CHANCE to talk to Maddie until everyone left Geraldine’s house.