by AR Winters
“This is delicious,” Ian said. “But isn’t it bad for your diet?”
I groaned. Now that I’d eaten half a cupcake, I’d remembered my diet, too. “It doesn’t matter,” I fibbed. “I’ll go on the diet starting tomorrow. Salads and soup, from now on.”
I ate another cupcake, just to make sure I wouldn’t miss out when I started my diet, and took some home with me. I couldn’t imagine life without cupcakes, and now that I sort of knew how to make them, I wasn’t going to give up so easily.
I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow, but not before I remembered the man in the gray hoodie. I didn’t know if someone really was trying to kill Lana, but I couldn’t deny that someone had tried to kill me. If Ian hadn’t spilled his drink, he wouldn’t be around to help me bake my cupcakes.
And I needed all the help I could get when it came to baking cupcakes. I couldn’t let anyone hurt Ian, and I needed to find this guy before he attacked us again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Glenn, Karma, and Karma’s two grandchildren were already at my parents’ when Ian and I showed up.
“This is Simone,” said Karma, “and Sam.”
Sam looked like he was three years old, with a red face and curious big eyes. Simone looked about six, and her brown hair was tied in a low ponytail. Ian tried to hide behind me, and I gave him a funny look. “You’re scared of Simone?” I hissed.
“She’s scary,” Ian whispered, trying to sit far away from her.
Everyone was gathered around the dining table, except for my mother, who was bringing in freshly cooked eggs and bacon from the kitchen.
“Hi, Simone,” I said. “Hi, Sam.”
Simone gave me a bright smile. “You’re pretty!” she said.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh! Thank you. Aren’t you sweet?”
My mother settled down at the table, and Karma said, “Simone and Sam are staying with me while their mom looks for a job in LA.”
I looked at Glenn, and he raised his shoulders slightly. I’d already heard from him that Simone and Sam’s mom, Tara, was Karma’s daughter, and their dad was a deadbeat who wasn’t really present in their lives. Tara had been raised by Karma to “follow her dreams and intuition,” and apparently, following her dreams and intuition involved hopping from one city to another, and from one improbable job to the next.
“Is she trying to be an actress?” I said.
“I’m not sure,” Karma said. “Some kind of singing work, I think. But she doesn’t have childcare arranged, yet.”
“Hey,” said Ian. “She could try out on Singing Duos. Tiffany and I are working on the show now!”
Before everyone started digging into the eggs, I put my box of orange-poppy seed cupcakes on the table. “Ian and I made them,” I said proudly.
Everyone cooed and acted surprised.
Mom said, “What a great idea, baking your own food! I can’t believe you’re finally growing up!”
I tried not to look too embarrassed and shifted the conversation to Singing Duos. We all gobbled up our breakfasts, and Ian and I told everyone about working for Lana. We conveniently left out our horrible audition.
“Gordon’s one of the judges, isn’t he?” said Karma.
“That man is so attractive!” said my mother.
I stared at her. I didn’t know what was more surprising, that my mother was publicly admitting that she found a younger man attractive, or that I felt the same way as her. “You watch the show?”
“Of course! Imagine, maybe you and Gordon could start dating, now that you’re single again.”
I tried not to look too shocked. For the first time ever, my mother’s idea of a good date didn’t put me off my food.
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled vaguely. I couldn’t tell my mom about the kiss, but I also couldn’t believe that she was actually being supportive of my life.
“It’s actually good to stay single for a while,” my mom went on. “I learned that when your Nanna got married. Better to be single and happy.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. I managed to pick it up again and say, “What’s wrong with us! Why are we agreeing on something?”
“Maybe it’s upside-down day,” suggested Ian.
My mother smiled. “Upside-down day started when Tiffany baked her own cupcakes!”
“Why are you single?” Simone asked me. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” I told her. “You don’t always have to have a boyfriend.”
Simone said, “I thought love made the world go round?”
“Yes, but you can love your family, and yourself. You don’t need a man to make you happy.”
Simone nodded wisely, as though she was taking my relationship advice to heart. “And Ian’s single, too, isn’t he?”
“He is,” I said. “How did you know?”
“Because he’s a funny man.”
Ian said, “I’m not a funny man.”
Simone said, “You have funny hair. You’re a funny face.”
“Funny hair,” repeated Sam. “Funny face.”
“It’s not nice to call someone Funny Face,” Karma said to Simone. “You should tell Ian you’re sorry.”
Simone looked at Ian and said, “I’m sorry you’re a Funny Face.”
Ian looked at me, and I did a palms-up.
“Kids are so honest,” Karma explained. “It’s hard to tell them not be honest.”
“I’m not a funny face,” Ian protested. “I’m single because women don’t…”
His voice trailed off. Ian’s never had the best of luck with women, so I changed the topic quickly.
“How do you like the cupcakes we made?” I asked Simone.
“They’re yummy,” she said. “But my mommy says that too many cupcakes make you fat.”
“Well, cupcakes help me stay smart.”
“Are you going to give some cupcakes to Lana?” Simone asked. I nodded, and she went on, “I’ve seen Singing Duos. Can I come meet Lana?”
“Uh—sure. I’ll try to make that happen.”
Simone beamed. “I like Lana. I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”
“I don’t want anyone to hurt either,” I said, and I meant it.
Now that someone had tried to poison me with a chocolate cocktail, I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of everything. Which meant having a long, hard chat with Lana.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ian and I were about to knock and walk into Lana’s studio, when we glanced at the tiny break room on the other side of the corridor. Linda was sitting in there by herself.
“Hey, Linda,” said Ian, heading over to her. “You’re up early.”
Linda had puffy eyes and dark circles. She yawned and said, “Yeah, sometimes I have a hard time sleeping.”
“What’re you doing in here?” I said. “Waiting for Aaron?”
Linda nodded. “Ever since we joined Singing Duos, Aaron’s been hard to keep track of. We have singing practice sometimes, but the rest of the time, he says he’s off meeting his friends in each of these cities.”
Something about the way Linda said those words made me think that she didn’t quite believe Aaron.
“How long have you two been married?” I asked.
She counted back. “Two years and four months. We only dated for six months before that.”
“You must be really excited to be on Singing Duos,” said Ian.
Linda shrugged. “It was a risk, quitting our jobs for four months. But I thought, you’re only young once, right? If we didn’t take the risk now, I don’t know when we would.”
“But what if you don’t win?” said Ian, ever the diplomat. “Aren’t you just going to be unemployed losers then? Employers might not want to hire you because they’ll think you’ll just run off again to be on some reality TV show.”
Linda’s skin went a shade paler, and I gave Ian a dirty look.
“What?” Ian said to me. “I’m just being honest.”
“I’m sure that’s not going to happen,” I told Linda reassuringly. “Best-case scenario, you’ll win this show. And even if you don’t win, lots of reality TV show runners-up get media jobs and singing contracts, and things like that. And, even if you get nothing out of the show, I’m sure employers will think you show initiative and, um…” I frowned, trying to think of more optimistic things to say, but Linda sighed.
“Actually,” she said, “things haven’t gone as well as I’d hoped when we joined the show. We have to travel around so much, and Aaron seems to have changed. We used to talk for hours, but now he’s secretive and I don’t know where he is all day.”
“But you’ve got some idea,” I said, still trying to sound reassuring.
“Oh, yes,” Linda said, her voice suddenly growing chillier. “I do have some idea.”
I could sense that she was thinking about Aaron’s activities differently from me, and I didn’t want to get involved in their marital problems.
On the other hand, I thought, perhaps Linda was making up this whole story about waiting for Aaron. She could wait for her husband anywhere: in the cafeteria, in her hotel room, or even by the pool. Why had she chosen to hang out in a room from where she had a clear view of Lana’s studio?
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, and then the red-haired assistant, Pam, walked in.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “I didn’t know you were all in here. I just came in to make some tea.”
“You’re not bothering us at all,” said Ian, moving to one side so she could get to the tea-making apparatus.
“Thanks,” said Pam, turning on the kettle. “How’s the stalker hunt going?”
“Not great,” said Ian. “You don’t have any ideas, do you?”
Pam shrugged. “Sometimes, Lana’s so mean I think she deserves it. She just yelled at me yesterday for having bright pink roses in her room instead of light pink. It’s not even my job to get her roses.”
“Wow,” Ian said. “She must really like roses.”
“And other people’s men,” said Pam, bitterly. “She’s always going after men who belong to other women.”
“How do you mean?” I watched Pam carefully; she was clearly lost in some memory. I wondered if Lana had slept with someone Pam had been dating, and I was about to say something, when the kettle beeped.
Pam’s brow cleared, and she said lightly, “There was a rumor last year that Lana had slept with one of the contestants’ husbands.”
There was a choking noise behind us, and we turned in time to see Linda break into a fit of coughing, as she reached for her water bottle.
Pam shrugged when we looked back at her. “It’s Lana’s life,” she said nonchalantly. “If she thinks she can just sleep with other women’s husbands, then I’m not surprised someone’s trying to hurt her.”
Linda had taken a few big gulps of water, and her coughing fit died away. Pam finished making her tea, said goodbye to us, and left.
I watched Linda out of the corner of my eye. Pam’s words had clearly rattled her, and it was apparent that Linda thought her husband was up to no good.
Ian turned to Linda before we left and said, “Hey, I really hope things work out for the two of you. You seem nice.”
“Thanks,” said Linda, giving Ian a funny look. “I’m trying to sort everything out.”
Her words had an ominous ring to them, and Ian and I exchanged a glance. Perhaps she wasn’t talking about Aaron. Perhaps she was talking about something else.
Maybe Linda was the one who’d poisoned the chocolate martini. Maybe she had dressed up as a man, using a fake beard, and a cap and sunglasses to hide her face. The oversized gray hoodie would have done a good job of hiding her gender. The more I thought about, the more it made sense. Linda was definitely up to something.
Then again, my experience at the bar last night might have made me a little paranoid, so I forced myself to ignore the funny sensation that was crawling its way up the insides of my forearms. We said goodbye to Linda and headed over to Lana’s room.
***
Ian and I were in Lana’s studio, and I carefully checked to be sure that the spider was safe in its cage. It seemed to be glaring at me through the glass walls, and I shuddered. At least it couldn’t get out and bite me.
Lana sat on the couch, sipping coffee out of a Styrofoam cup, and Ian and I sat opposite her.
“Someone tried to poison us last night,” I said, and told her about the letter and the chocolate martini.
“So now you believe me,” Lana said. “I could see you didn’t really, before.”
I smiled wryly. “I did believe you. I just wasn’t sure if the gator and the note were connected.”
“But you never saw the guy who bought the drink?”
I shook my head. “He wore a gray hoodie, and the waitress said he had a beard.”
Lana started to say something, and then she suddenly tilted over to one side and lay down on the sofa. “I feel dizzy.”
The coffee dropped from her hands.
Ian and I rushed over, and I tried not to panic. My heart thumped in my chest, and I hoped that we weren’t having a repeat performance of what happened yesterday at the pub.
“Call the paramedics,” I told Ian. The Riverbelle had paramedics on call, thanks to the number of people who got sick in the casino pit, and I knew they’d be here straight away.
Lana’s face grew pale, and she began gasping. “Hard,” she said. “Breathing.”
I could feel the room closing in on us. What did you do when someone had trouble breathing? I knew lying on your back couldn’t be good. I was wondering if I should push her up into a sitting position, when the paramedics burst in—two young women in professional-looking uniforms.
One of them bent to take her pulse, and the other said, “Dizziness? And now shortness of breath?” I nodded, and she put her hand on one side of Lana’s throat. “Are you allergic to anything, Lana?”
“Aspartame,” Lana gasped.
The paramedic turned to me. “Was she eating or drinking anything just now?”
“She was having coffee,” I said, indicating the Styrofoam cup that was now lying on the floor.
The paramedic looked through her bag and found an epi pen. “This will sting,” she said, “But it should work. I’m pretty sure she’s having an allergic reaction; there was probably some aspartame in the coffee.”
I looked away as the paramedic inserted the needle, and then slowly, Lana stopped gasping for breath.
“Better,” she said, looking around at all of us.
One of the paramedics picked up the cup of coffee. There was still a bit of liquid at the bottom of the cup, and she sniffed it suspiciously. “This was what she was drinking?” the paramedic asked me.
I nodded.
“I never put aspartame in my drinks,” Lana said. “Only Stevia or one of those herbal pills.”
I pursed my lips, unhappy that I hadn’t been able to prevent this. “Where did this coffee come from?”
“I asked for it to be ready in my room this morning,” Lana said. The color was returning to her face. “Ever since my assistant quit, nobody gets me coffee on time. Half the crew knows I need my coffee, but I have to keep chasing them.”
“So it was just sitting here, waiting?”
“I didn’t think anyone would—”
We looked at each other silently, and I tried to figure things out in my head. Food allergies weren’t ever revealed to the press, so only a few people would’ve known about this. Whoever poisoned Lana’s drink had easy access to her room, and had taken the time to find out about her allergies.
One of the paramedics said, “I guess you folks don’t need us. You can head over to a doctor to get a check-up, but otherwise—this seems to have just been a bit of a mix-up.”
I watched them leave, and then Ian said, “You don’t really believe it was a mix-up, do you?”
“No way,” said Lana.
I agreed. It wa
s time to call the cops.
After I placed the call, I headed over to the break room opposite, to check whether or not Linda might have noticed anything unusual. But when I got there, Linda was nowhere to be seen.
Ten minutes later, Detective Dimitriou turned up at the studio. His gray eyes were dark and somber.
“What happened?” he asked, looking around at us and pulling out a notepad.
We filled him in, talking all at once, telling him about the poisoned coffee. He put the cup and its dangerous contents into a clear plastic evidence bag and said he’d have a word with the medics on the way out. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
Ian and I looked at each other. I didn’t feel much like admitting the incident in the bar, but before we could stop her, Lana said, “Someone tried to poison Tiffany.”
Detective Dimitriou focused his intense gaze on me, sending shivers down my spine. “How do you mean?”
Ian and Lana filled Dimitriou in on the details of the pub poisoning, and he took a few more notes.
“You should stay with her,” Lana said once they’d finished telling him the whole story. “Make sure Tiff’s safe.”
“I can’t prevent people from sending her drinks,” Dimitriou said, not taking his eyes off me.
Ian said, “And I’m the one who got poisoned, anyhow.”
“Well.” Dimitriou looked from me to Ian, and then back at me again. “Stay safe. And out of trouble.”
After he left, Lana made fanning motions with her hands. “Hottest cop I’ve seen. Almost makes getting poisoned with aspartame worth it.”
I frowned at her. “So you’ve still got no idea who got you the coffee?” Lana shook her head no, and I remembered seeing a lone security camera on the hallway ceiling. Since the studio area wasn’t officially part of the gambling area, security was comparatively lax. But maybe I could find something on the security cameras that monitored the entrance to the studios, and the hallway.
I turned to watch Lana’s tarantula again, just to make sure she was still safe in her cage, when I caught sight of a gray hoodie lying in one corner of Lana’s room.
My heart began to beat wildly, and I stopped myself from panicking by taking a deep breath in. “What’s that?”