by Peg Cochran
“I’m really sorry about tonight. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He gave a sketchy salute and turned on his heel.
Gigi sat slumped over her now empty cup of tea. “It hadn’t occurred to me that we’d have to cancel tonight.”
Alice patted her hand. “I can understand how disappointed you are, but he did say he’d make it up to you. You guys will go out another night.”
Gigi sighed. “I guess I’d gotten myself all worked up that it was going to be today.” She wiped a corner of her eye with her napkin. “The way things have been going with us, who knows if there will be a next time.” She struggled to smile. “I guess I’ll go home and rustle up something to eat from the fridge.”
“You could go out and eat some worms.”
For a moment, Gigi was startled, but then, in spite of herself, she began to laugh remembering the childhood ditty they used to sing.
Her laugh was cut short when Mertz reappeared in the doorway. “Can I speak with you?”
“I’ve got to be going.” Alice jumped up from her seat and grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.
Mertz stood silently and watched her go, not saying anything until the kitchen door had closed behind Alice.
“I’m really beat.” He sat down in the chair Alice had vacated and ran a hand across his forehead.
Gigi was startled. She’d never seen Mertz unbend an inch let alone admit defeat. “You need a cup of coffee.” She pushed off from her chair and began to rummage in the pantry for the bag of Sumatra blend she’d brought to Felicity’s.
Mertz didn’t object but sat at the table with his head in his hands.
Now Gigi was really worried. She placed a scoop of coffee into the fancy coffee machine that made only one cup at a time. She added water and stood back as it gurgled and spit a cup of java into the mug she’d placed under it.
She slid the cup in front of Mertz.
Mertz ran a hand through his closely cropped hair, and Gigi thought she heard him groan as he took a sip of the bracing brew.
She slid into the seat opposite and waited for him to speak.
“The mayor’s all over this.” Mertz took a second draft and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Winchel’s a real big shot in town. And Felicity put the town on the map. Everyone’s screaming for an arrest.” He looked up at Gigi.
“There are plenty of leads,” Gigi declared authoritatively. “Derek Winchel stood to receive a substantial inheritance from Felicity, so he was at the top of my list.” She glanced down into her empty cup. “We’ll have to scratch that one, I guess. But there’s still Don, Felicity’s manager, and Vanessa.” She frowned. “Even Winchel himself.”
Mertz looked up, an eyebrow raised.
“Winchel stands to inherit a fair amount of Felicity’s money as well.” Gigi couldn’t believe Mertz was actually talking about the case to her. She felt encouraged to continue. “And Don cashed in on a policy he took out on Felicity right before she died.”
Mertz’s head snapped up. “He did, did he?”
“And he got very touchy when he discovered I’d been asking questions about him.”
Mertz gave a tired smile. “I’ll bet.”
“Even Vanessa has a motive of sorts. With Felicity out of the way, she stands to take the lead in For Better or For Worse. Vanessa is sporting some really spectacular jewelry all of a sudden. I’m thinking Don might have bought it for her with some of the proceeds of that insurance policy.”
Mertz looked at Gigi over the rim of his coffee cup. He wiped a hand across his face as if he were trying to wipe something away. “Unfortunately there’s no real, hard evidence to connect any of those people to Felicity’s death.” He smiled at Gigi, but it was a tired, sad smile.
“We’ll have to find evidence. We’ll—”
Mertz held up a hand and opened his mouth but then shut it again.
A strange feeling began to form in the pit of Gigi’s stomach. She had a feeling that Mertz was about to say something she wouldn’t like hearing. Something really bad.
“What?” she demanded.
Mertz shook his head as if trying to clear it. “You know the prescription pill bottle you found in Derek’s bedroom?”
Gigi nodded, and the feeling in her stomach intensified. She felt as if she were going to be sick.
“What?” she said again.
Mertz looked down at his coffee cup as if seeking guidance from its depths. “We found prints on it. Other than Felicity’s.”
“Yes?” Gigi’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure Mertz could see it.
“The prints belonged to your friend.”
“Friend?”
Mertz nodded and managed to look even sadder. “Yes. Sienna Paisley.”
• • •
Gigi stood in the kitchen and chopped furiously at a red onion for the salad. If anyone asked, she would say she wasn’t crying—it was the onion making her eyes tear. She closed them for a moment. She’d been so excited about today. A real dinner date with an attractive man. And a new dress. It didn’t get any better than that. But everything had disintegrated into a pile of ash. And she was facing the fact that the police still thought her best friend was responsible for a murder. She desperately wanted to go home, but Anja was a mess, and Gigi had promised Winchel she would stay. She wished she’d brought Reg with her—he always cheered her up—but the young girl next door was going to take him out and give him his dinner in her absence.
As soon as everything was ready, Gigi had decided, she would leave and go to Sienna’s. She had to make Sienna tell her where she’d been the afternoon Felicity died. And with this new evidence, Gigi had no doubt that Sienna would realize how serious things had become.
The boeuf bourguignon in the oven was almost ready. Gigi had brought some of her Gourmet De-Lite containers with her, and she would fill one for her own dinner. She opened the kitchen door to go out to her car, and the wind immediately grabbed it and tried to wrest it from her. She managed to close it behind her amidst a hail of brightly colored autumn leaves. She glanced up at the sky. The clouds were dark, and rain was clearly threatening. She thought she felt a drop as she hurried toward her MINI.
She was closing her car door behind her when she noticed a flurry of activity at the front of the house. The door was open and several policemen and technicians were exiting. Gigi turned her head. She didn’t want to see them carrying Derek’s body out. She hadn’t much cared for the young man, but it still made her dreadfully sad that his life had been cut short so young.
Gigi took her container inside and opened it up on the counter. She filled it with a half cup of noodles, and ladled some of the beef on top. It smelled delicious, and she was tempted to eat it right then and there, but her stomach was in turmoil, and she didn’t want to get a tummy ache.
Suddenly the door to the kitchen swung open and Mertz entered. Gigi was struck by how terrible he looked. He didn’t even attempt to smile but sat at the table and put his head in his hands. Gigi slid into the seat opposite him, her own hands clenched in her lap.
After several moments, Mertz finally looked up. “It’s always hard when it’s someone so young.”
Gigi had to resist the urge to put her hand over his.
Mertz swallowed hard. Gigi saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
“We found something in Derek’s room.” Mertz looked up. “Something that indicates we’re looking at another murder here.”
“Yes?” Gigi tensed.
“An insulin syringe. I’ve talked with Winchel, and Derek wasn’t diabetic, nor had he been prescribed insulin for any reason.”
For a moment, it didn’t register with Gigi. Then she remembered. Sienna. Pregnancy-induced diabetes. Insulin. Needles.
She knew she ought to tell Mertz, but she clamped her mouth shut and didn’t say a word.
Chapter 16
Gigi jumped into her MINI and backed ferociously out of the driveway. She swiped a hand across her face, wiping the moi
sture from her eyes. It couldn’t be. Sienna couldn’t possibly have murdered Felicity and Derek. Someone must have planted that syringe to try to make Sienna look guilty. And Gigi was sure there was a completely logical reason why they’d found Sienna’s fingerprints on Felicity’s bottle of prescription tranquilizers.
Even with Derek’s death she didn’t lack for suspects. She had to find a way to link the killer with the crime. She raised her chin slightly. Much as she hated doing it, she would have to ask more questions and probe into more lives. She’d do it for Sienna.
The streetlights were coming on as Gigi drove down High Street. It wasn’t raining, but drops continued to fall from the trees and splatter onto her windshield. She turned on the wipers to clear the glass, and two curling red maple leaves, caught under the blades, swished back and forth across her windshield.
Mertz obviously didn’t know that Sienna had contracted gestational diabetes and been prescribed insulin, but it wouldn’t take him long to find out. Gigi had to talk to Sienna first and warn her. Sienna had what could be considered a strong motive—having been made a fool of by Felicity and the “leaked” picture and story of Oliver. There didn’t seem to be anything to link her with Derek, but Gigi had no doubt that the police would come up with something.
The light was on over Sienna’s front door, and Gigi hoped that meant she was home. Gigi crossed her fingers as she rang Sienna’s doorbell.
Sienna was already in her robe and pajamas when she opened the door. Her long hair was pulled into a braid that hung down her back. She looked startled when she saw Gigi standing on her doorstep.
“Come in.” She pulled the door wider. “Is it raining?”
“Yes.” Gigi took off her coat and handed it to Sienna.
“What’s up? Has something happened?”
Gigi nodded. “I’m sorry it’s so late”—she gestured at Sienna’s robe—“but we need to talk.”
Sienna frowned. “You look terrible. Has something happened?”
Gigi nodded as she followed Sienna into the great room that served as both family room and living room. It was filled with comfy, overstuffed furniture. A fire was going in the stone fireplace, and the room smelled of delicious wood smoke. Gigi was sorry that she was going to have to ruin the peaceful scene.
Sienna curled up on the sofa, and Gigi collapsed into one of the chairs.
Sienna gave a wry smile. “I’m the type who likes to rip the Band-Aid off in one fell swoop, so out with it. Tell me what’s happened.”
Gigi sighed. “Derek is dead.”
“Oh.” Sienna’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry to hear that. So young.” She was quiet for a moment. “What happened?”
“They don’t really know yet. But two things have been found in his room.”
Sienna raised her eyebrows.
Well, here it goes, Gigi thought. “You know that bottle of tranquilizers that belonged to Felicity?”
Sienna nodded.
Gigi gulped and took a deep breath. “The police apparently found your fingerprints on the bottle.”
Sienna half rose from her seat. “You don’t think I—”
Gigi shook her head vehemently. “No, of course not. But Mertz will certainly think you had something to do with it. Can you remember how your fingerprints would have gotten on the container?”
Sienna frowned and rubbed her forehead. “It was a while back, but I seem to remember that Felicity had a prescription pill bottle that she couldn’t get open. She asked me if I could help.” Sienna smiled. “Yes, I remember now. She’d had her nails touched up, and she didn’t want to ruin them. She asked me to do it for her.”
“Was it a vial of tranquilizers?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look at the label. But it must have been. My fingerprints wouldn’t be on any other pill bottles.”
Sienna leaned back against the cushions, a look of relief on her face. Gigi rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. She had a giant knot on the right side. She knew what she was going to say next was going to upset Sienna, and she hated doing it. But it was better than having Sienna be blindsided by Mertz when he figured things out.
“You don’t look convinced. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Sienna leaned forward and stared intently at Gigi.
“There’s more.”
Sienna grabbed one of the throw pillows and clutched it to her chest. “Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to like this?”
“I’m sorry. But I don’t want you finding out from Mertz.”
“Finding out what?”
“They found something else in Derek’s room.” Gigi closed her eyes. “An insulin syringe.”
Sienna gasped. “No.”
“Mertz checked. Derek hasn’t been prescribed insulin.”
“Someone is trying to implicate me.” Sienna clutched the pillow tighter.
“It looks like it.”
“What are we going to do?”
Sienna clutched the pillow even tighter, and Gigi saw her knuckles turning white. Gigi leaned forward and put a hand over Sienna’s. “Don’t worry,” she said with more confidence than she felt, “between us, we’ll find the real culprit and present him to the police.”
• • •
Reg was beside himself when Gigi finally got home. She knelt down to let him lick her face. His tail slapped against her coat, making a thwacking sound, and he positively wriggled in his excitement to see her.
Gigi felt the usual peace settle over her that being in her cottage always brought. She wandered from room to room, turning on a light here and there and enjoying the pride of ownership that came over her every time she walked through the door. Finally, with Reg at her heels, she headed toward the kitchen.
“This is what you’re after, I’m sure.” She retrieved a dog biscuit from the cookie jar on the counter. She held it over Reg’s head, and he danced on his back paws, licking his lips in anticipation. Gigi gave it a small toss, and Reg jumped and grabbed it from the air. He took it to his dog bed in the corner where he settled in for his snack.
Gigi put some hot water on the stove. She hoped a cup of chamomile tea would help her settle down. Her nerves felt as taut as violin strings. She couldn’t even face the container of beef stew she’d brought home, although earlier her stomach had been growling fiercely. She sat at the table, her head in her hands, her eyes drooping closed. The shriek from the teakettle startled her, and she jumped up, barking her knee against the table. Tears of frustration flooded her eyes. Today had really been a no good, horrible, terrible, really bad day. She was ready to put on her pajamas, crawl into bed and put it behind her.
Gigi brushed her teeth, washed her face and slid between the covers. She pulled up the down comforter and sighed. Her bed felt delicious—warm and cozy and safe. The tea had soothed her frazzled nerves, and she found her eyes quickly closing.
The shrill ring of the telephone sent her heart into high gear. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she lunged for the receiver on her nightstand.
“Hello?”
“It’s Alice.”
The weakness in Alice’s voice alarmed Gigi. “What’s the matter?” She heard Alice groan.
“I’ve fallen down the stairs. I think my arm is broken. I’m sorry to call so late, but Stacy isn’t answering her cell phone. I don’t want to call an ambulance and wake up all my neighbors. I’m terribly sorry . . .” Alice’s voice drifted to a whisper.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Gigi had already begun to shimmy out of her pajama bottoms. She grabbed her jeans off the chair where she’d tossed them and pulled them on. They smelled like sautéed onions and garlic, but she didn’t want to take the time to dig for a clean pair. Her T-shirt wasn’t any fresher, but it would have to do. She grabbed her fleece from the closet and she was ready to go.
Reggie had already been home alone all day, so Gigi decided to let him tag along. He rode shotgun while she traversed the darkened streets
of a sleeping Woodstone. Alice had sounded as if she were in pain. Gigi hoped she wasn’t going into shock. She tried to remember what first aid she’d learned in Girl Scouts a million years ago. She knew she needed to keep Alice warm—she’d grab a blanket to wrap around her as they drove to the hospital.
Alice’s house was dark except for the light over the front door, as Gigi pulled into the driveway. Alice was waiting, and flipped off the light as she opened the door to Gigi.
“No use keeping this on and burning up electricity.”
“We might need it when we return. You don’t want to trip coming up the stairs and hurt yourself further.”
“True.” Alice flipped the switch back to the on position.
She looked better than Gigi had feared, but she was pale and obviously in pain. “Do you have a throw or blanket handy? It’s gotten rather bitter out.”
“There’s one on the sofa.” Alice gestured behind her.
Gigi felt her way through the darkness toward the bulky shadow she assumed was the couch. She felt along the arms until her hands closed on what she assumed was a knitted afghan. She tucked it under her arm and helped Alice down the steps toward her waiting MINI.
She shooed Reg into the back, tucked Alice into the front passenger seat and carefully covered her with the quilt. Fortunately, the hospital was barely two miles away. The roads were deserted, and Gigi felt justified in ignoring the speed limit.
Bright yellow light from the emergency room entrance spilled across the drive. Gigi pulled into one of the designated parking spots and helped Alice to the door. The nurse behind the desk spied them coming and rushed toward them with a wheelchair. Alice settled into it gratefully.
“I’ll try to fit you in as soon as possible,” the dark-haired nurse said as she wheeled Alice toward the triage area. “We had a five-car pileup on the highway. I gather the roads are rather slippery tonight. And the usual chest pains, small children with fevers, and a woman whose hand swelled and now she can’t get her wedding ring off.”
The waiting room was crowded with adults and small children, half of them staring blankly at the wall-mounted television. A cop show was on, and someone had turned up the volume so the sounds of cars screeching and guns firing echoed off the walls. A young man in a baseball cap was shaking the vending machine, which had apparently failed to release the bag of stale cookies or chips he’d selected. Gigi took a seat and picked up one of the magazines, but she was too jumpy to make any sense of the words or pictures on its pages. She replaced it and got up to go in search of a water fountain.