Poisoned Pairings

by Lesley Diehl

  “Stop to check on a security system?” Jeremiah was adding hops to a kettle of ale we were brewing.

  “Too much to do. I’ll call them tomorrow.”

  “Did you get a chance to talk with Sally, then?”

  “No, but I did buy you a present. Come outside and look at it.”

  Jeremiah finished the hopping and delivered me a look, signaling his irritation at what I hadn’t gotten accomplished this afternoon.

  I got the message. “Right. I’ll call Sally now. You take a look at the truck I bought.”

  I stepped outside for a good cell signal and punched in Sally’s number. A man answered. Marshall. Did he live there?

  “How nice to hear from you, and how cowardly of you to send someone from the garage to return Sally’s car. You aren’t avoiding me, are you? I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with your mishap on the way home after our business meeting. We both would love to see you, as would your goddaughter. Or niece.”

  “Where’s Sally?” I knew my question sounded less than gracious, but the man was beginning to wear on me.

  “Right here I am. I was nursing the baby when the phone rang.” Sally sounded breathless but happy to hear from me.

  “With Marshall there?”

  “Oh, don’t be an old prude. What’s up?”

  If I was to get Sally off on her own so I could talk to her, I needed to change my approach and my tone of voice.

  “I thought we could have a girl’s day out, a morning at the spa and then lunch. How about it?”

  “Oh, it sounds like fun.”

  “I’m sure Marshall would be more than happy to babysit for Michaela,” I added.

  We settled on late Saturday morning after Jake left. I’d use the event as a way to get my mind off his departure.

  “You’ll stop by here before we go, won’t you? You can’t believe how she’s grown,” Sally said.

  “Of course. Maybe we can take her for a walk in the afternoon after we’ve had our spa fix.”

  “Oh, great. I’m sure Marshall would like that, too. He hasn’t seen you since the two of you met for dinner the night your truck …”

  “Was tampered with,” I finished for her.

  ~

  Jake held my hand across the table, the subdued lighting in the restaurant creating a romantic atmosphere for our good-bye dinner. Tony had seated us in a corner, and he’d left the tables nearest us unoccupied so it was as if we had our own private dining room.

  Despite the wonderful food Tony served, a special bracciole and risotto paired with an Italian red wine, I pushed the food around my plate. Jake, who never let anything affect his appetite, did the same.

  “I’ve got news for you,” Jake said.

  “News? Good news I hope.”

  “The sheriff told me who’s taking over my cases while I’m doing my K-9 training.” He took a gulp of wine and coughed. I knew I wouldn’t like the name I was about to hear.

  “Cliff Petrovski.”

  “Petrogliff Cliff?” I said, using the nickname he had in high school. “He was hired only a few years ago, and he has no previous law enforcement experience. And he’s assigned to investigate a murder and my accident? What was Sheriff Brady thinking?”

  “He’ll do fine,” said Jake, but I could tell from his tentative tone he wasn’t convinced Cliff was the one for the job. “Why do you call him Petrogliff Cliff?” he asked.

  “You should have figured that one out by now. You’ve talked to him. It’s like trying to read the pictographs left by cliff dwellers in the southwest. No one can make any sense of what he says.” I jerked my hand out of his. “You told me to stay out of it, and now I’ll have to. If I ask him what’s going on with the case, he’ll say something no one will be able to understand.”

  “Hera, with all the budget cuts around here, we’re understaffed. My boss had no choice.”

  “Well, then, he should have you stick around here and save the money on your training.”

  “That money comes from a grant. It’s not part of our regular budget.”

  “Let Cliff go get a dog as a partner. Maybe the dog will understand him better than humans do.”

  “The grant won’t allow us to substitute personnel.”

  “Why not?”

  Jake jabbed at his food as if he thought it needed to be subdued or it might get up and walk off the plate. Then he said something I couldn’t hear.

  “What did you say?”

  “Because I wrote the grant. It was funded. That was why I was hired.”

  I tucked my chin into my chest and stared at the tablecloth.

  “You’re not mad are you?”

  “No.”

  “Then look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want you to see me cry.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because I thought we were a pair. You know, together. We helped each other.”

  “We did. I mean, we do.”

  “But you’re leaving.”

  “I’m coming back, you know.”

  “That’s not the point. I need you here now.”

  Jake sat back in his chair. “I wish you wanted me to stay, not just needed me around.”

  “I know. I’m so confused about everything. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “Of course you do. You’re a brew master. You own a microbrewery.”

  “If I didn’t, then who would I be?” This was not what I intended for our last night before he left. It was a pity Hera party, and I was disgusted for giving in to it. Whatever my fears were, I should have kept them to myself.

  “Oh, hell, maybe I’m just jealous because you’ll probably come back here with a partner you like better than me.”

  “A dog? I’d like a dog better than you?”

  “I was crazy about Mugs, my dog.”

  Jake looked at me with astonishment. Then he began to laugh, and soon I joined him.

  “You guys having a good time?” It was Tony. He looked at the destruction on our plates. “If you don’t like the food, I’ll get you something else. A steak or chicken a la vodka?”

  “The food is superb, Tony. I guess we just don’t have much of an appetite,” Jake said.

  “Coffee and brandy?” he asked.

  “Sure, why not?” said Jake. “And we’ll split a tiramisu.”

  Tony smiled and left. Jake and I held hands across the table the rest of the evening between bites of dessert, of course.

  We were silent on the way back to my place. We had circumvented a difficult moment in the evening with laughter, and neither of us wanted to intrude upon the uneasy peace we’d established. Better to avoid speaking at all.

  “I’m not spending the night,” he said to me at the door.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I think we should leave things as they are. Passion has a way of making me say things I know you don’t want to hear now.” I started to protest, but he laid his fingers on my lips. “You need time to think about us. When I come back, we’ll talk some more.”

  What he meant was he wanted me to decide while he was gone whether I would marry him. He expected an answer when he returned. I hoped I could give him one, because he wouldn’t wait forever.

  ~

  Sally and I lay side by side on massage tables at the spa.

  “I needed this,” she said.

  “Me too.” We both had been letting forth sounds of contentment as the masseuses worked our tight muscles. When they finished, they left us, dimming the lights and turning on soothing music.

  “I could fall asleep.”

  I felt the same and would have preferred drifting off for a short nap, but this was the only opportunity I might have to tell Sally what I knew about Marshall.

  “I know Marshall has been a great help to you,” I began. I could feel the waves of tension emanating
from Sally as I spoke.

  “You didn’t come here to say nice things about Marshall. We’re both aware of what’s going on with you.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, of course, he told me about the kiss at the brewery. I guess you haven’t yet forgotten Michael. It isn’t surprising you might come on to Marshall, he’s so like Michael without all the unfortunate parental baggage. And he’s more considerate. Not so selfish. I wish you could see that. Maybe you can, and that’s why you kissed him. But you’ve got to forget about the past, Hera. You and Jake are right together. Let Michael go.”

  I lifted my head off the table, stunned by her words. What she said was so wrong. No, no. It was correct, but skewed.

  I swallowed hard knowing what I said next could determine whether she believed me about Marshall or not.

  “Well, yes we kissed, but it was as much his idea as mine. And I have been thinking a lot lately about Michael, but …”

  “It’s not fair to Jake, and it’s not fair to Marshall and me.”

  “I know. I have to get my head on straight about things. Jake and I talked about that before he left. That’s not what’s bothering me now.”

  She reached her hand across to my table and touched my arm. “Tell me.”

  “Marshall has Claudia’s power of attorney.”

  She was silent for a moment.

  “You must be mistaken.”

  I told her about Jeremiah overhearing the conversation between Marshall and his lawyer.

  “There’s only one way to find out. I’ll ask him. Now, let’s have lunch. I’m starved.” She sat up and wrapped her towel around her. As she walked from the room, she called back to me. “Talk about Marshall is off limits until I find out what’s going on.”

  At lunch Sally and I avoided talk about men in general, focusing instead on Michaela and how smart she was, how beautiful, and also about Sally’s plans for the bakery. I told her about the brewing and winery resort center.

  “It’s just the place for you to feature desserts and your artisan breads, don’t you think?”

  “Perfect.” She clapped her hands together in anticipation. Her eyes twinkled with delight at being part of the project. “Oh, Hera, this will bring tourist trade into this valley and jobs, too. It’s a wonderful idea. Maybe we can hold off the gas drilling hogs from taking over our land. I can’t bear to think of all those toxic chemicals and what they might to do our water, our beautiful clean water. You must be more horrified than I.”

  “I am. I don’t understand why the village council won’t consider enacting a land use ordinance outlawing fracking. Other towns have.”

  “They’re all a bunch of cowards. The bank president who’s on the council told me he’s terrified the gas companies will sue the village if they take action forbidding drilling.”

  “They’re waiting for the outcome of the state’s study on fracking. It’s called passing the buck.”

  Our conversation had deviated from the happier thought of developing a winery and brewing resort.

  “I didn’t mean to take us down this unpleasant road,” Sally said.

  “It’s something on everyone’s mind these days.”

  “The resort complex sounds great. I’d love to be a part of it.”

  “Keep it under your hat for a while. I want to talk with Rafe about it, then Ronald wants everyone to sit down together and brainstorm.”

  We were so busy talking we didn’t notice the man who approached our table until he was next to us and cleared his throat to get our attention.

  I looked up. It was Petrogliff Cliff.

  “It’s been a while, well, not a while, a long time. Actually not a long time, but not since high school at the newspaper. You read some of it. Wrote to me to say things good about … I don’t do any newspaper work now that I’m into other things. Like Murder. Well, I’m not into murder, myself, but I …”

  It wasn’t the clearest message, but it was one of the best Cliff delivered. I could understand it. “You’re investigating Bruce Clement’s murder now that Jake is gone, and you have questions for me, right?”

  “Uh, well, uh, yes.”

  Sally put a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

  “Not such a good thing, now, is it? Murder and food.”

  “Right. Now is not a good time for this discussion, but why don’t you drop by the brewery later this afternoon?”

  A look of relief came over his face. “You understand?”

  “I’m trying, Cliff,” I said.

  “Later.”

  “Around four?”

  He nodded and backed away, then turned and walked out of the restaurant.

  “That’s Jake’s replacement on the case?” Sally looked both shocked and amused.

  I nodded.

  “I guess this is one murder that won’t be solved until Jake returns.”

  “I feel kind of sorry for him. He’s always been like this. I wonder why Sheriff Brady hired him. He must have seen some potential in the man. What, I don’t know, but I’m going to try to work with him.”

  “What do you mean, work with him? Didn’t Jake tell you to stay out of it?”

  “Of course, and of course, I intend to ignore him, especially given Cliff’s assignment to solve this one. The guy needs all the help he can get.” I stirred a packet of sweetener into my coffee and thought about my next step in this case.

  “Hera? Where did you go?”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “Jake wouldn’t like it.”

  After lunch Sally and I walked back to her place where Marshall awaited us. He and I exchanged distant greetings and talk of the weather while Sally bundled up the baby. I held Michaela in my arms and wondered if Jake and I would ever have children. What would they look like? Like me, blonde, blue-eyed, reed thin? Or more like Jake with his green eyes and tall, muscular build?

  Michaela blinked her blue eyes at me and waved her tiny hands in the air. She was a clone of her mother with only the blue eyes reminiscent of her father. I decided that was probably good in this case, yet a child needed to know its father.

  “I’ll take her.” Marshall lifted the baby out of my arms and planted a kiss on her plump cheek. For a moment, it was as if Michael, not Marshall, was holding his daughter. Marshall’s eyes met mine, and I thought for a moment he had read my mind, that he knew I saw Michael there and that he wanted me to see him. I shook free of the thoughts and avoided Marshall’s gaze.Ghosts.

  “Let’s go.” I carried the stroller down the steps with Marshall following, babe in his arms, Sally held the door open and the three of us started down the walk, enjoying the late autumn sunshine and the clear blue sky. I knew the good weather would not last long.

  I called the security company when I got home and scheduled an appointment for them to install the system on Monday. Meanwhile, Jeremiah and I sat down in the brewery to talk about a Christmas ale, one I would make only for the holiday season and take out of my offerings at the end of January. I was tired of the usual holiday brews—ales with cinnamon, orange, nutmeg, and other spices used in seasonal cooking. I wanted something different.

  “Allspice?” asked Jeremiah.

  “Maybe, but it seems too much like the nutmeg, cinnamon blend. We have our winter stout, and it’s chocolatey. I want something lighter, bubbly like champagne but more amber with distinctive, but not so common, spices.”

  Silence. We thought and thought late into the afternoon. Nothing. My head was empty. I heard a vehicle pull into the drive. It was Cliff.

  “Let’s take a time out. Cliff Petrovski is here to talk with me about the murder. He’s the deputy assigned to the case in Jake’s absence.”

  “I haven’t seen him in a while,” said Jeremiah. “He and I used to hang out some in high school.”

  “You hung out together? I didn’t know that.”

  “Think about it. Everyone made fun of my white skin and pink eyes and his nonsensical way of speaking. We were a natur
al.”

  Although I was ten years ahead of Cliff and Jeremiah in school, I remember reading the high school newspaper on occasion in the local library. Cliff wrote articles for it, and they were clear, rational, and probably levels above what most high schoolers read. I’d even written him to say how much I enjoyed them. I mentioned this to Jeremiah.

  “Right. He was a whiz when it came to the written word.”

  “What do you think is going on with him?”

  Jeremiah sighed. “I think Cliff would prefer to keep this a secret, but he has most of his trouble talking to girls, women. He’s better with guys, especially if he likes them, and they don’t treat him like a retard. When he’s relaxed, he speaks pretty clearly.”

  “Well, I can’t change my sex, but I’ll try to be respectful. Until he gets used to me, maybe you could translate?”

  “It doesn’t seem as if the two of you need to say much to one another, unless you intend doing what Jake told you not to, getting involved in trying to solve Bruce’s murder.” Jeremiah gave me a sly look through his white lashes.

  I had an angry response ready, but Cliff stepped through the door, and I bit it back.

  He looked at Jeremiah, and the rigidity in his shoulders relaxed. A smile lit up his face.

  “Hi, Cliff,” I said.

  He looked at me, and the smile disappeared.

  “Earlier. Murder,” he said.

  “ Right,” said Jeremiah. “Hera said you’d be dropping by to talk with her. She’s eager to get your take on the murder.”

  “She is?” He looked at me in surprise.

  “Yup, I am. Have a seat.” I pointed him to the bench across from the one Jeremiah and I were working at. “We were trying to find a spice blend for my holiday ale.”

  “Beer.” He licked his lips. I could understand why people thought he was intellectually challenged. He spoke either in single words or in unfinished sentences impossible to follow.

  “So I guess you like a good brew?” I asked.

  He nodded and looked at Jeremiah.

  “The two of us have lifted a few together over the years,” said Jeremiah. They laughed.