Dial P For Poison (Movie Club Mysteries, Book 1): An Irish Cozy Mystery

by Zara Keane

  Julie’s embrace was gentler than Noreen’s but equally heartfelt. “It’s good to see you,” I said. “It’s been way too long.”

  “Tell me about it. It was a shame I couldn’t make it to your wedding.”

  My lips twitched. “That’s okay. You might make it to the next one.”

  Julie scrunched up her nose. “I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out, Maggie. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you came back to Whisper Island, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal.”

  “I’m glad, too. I needed a change of scene, and you can’t get much different from San Francisco than Whisper Island.”

  “My enthusiasm for your visit isn’t entirely altruistic.” Julie grinned. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  I grabbed a damp cloth and cleaning spray from the counter. “As long as you don’t mind me wiping down tables while you talk, shoot.”

  “If you have a second cloth, I’ll help.”

  I tossed her one, and we got to work.

  “Noreen mentioned that you jog regularly,” Julie said.

  I grimaced. “I haven’t done it as often as I should have lately, but yeah. I like running.”

  “Brilliant.” Julie practically bounced on the spot. “I want to participate in this year’s Runathon, and I need a running partner. Without someone to hold me accountable, I’ll never motivate myself to lace up on cold winter mornings.”

  “I saw a poster about the Runathon. When is it being held?”

  “Saint Patrick’s Day. That gives me exactly eight weeks to train.”

  I strode over to a poster featuring a gorgeous landscape view of the island and a smaller photo of a running team. “It says here there are 5K and 10K events. Which one are you aiming for?”

  “The 5K. I’m pretty sure the 10K would kill me.”

  I took a closer look at the photo and started to laugh. “Let me guess…would Mr. Handsome here have anything to do with your sudden desire to run?”

  My cousin blushed to the roots of her auburn hair. “Oisin Tate teaches sport at the school.”

  I checked out the handsome features and slick smile. A little cocky, but who was I to judge? I’d already proven that I had the world’s worst taste in men. “Not bad. I can see why you have a crush on him.”

  “Me and half the female staff,” Julie said gloomily. “I doubt I stand a chance. It’s tough finding any man to go out with on the island, and a looker like Oisin Tate is hot property.”

  “Tate,” I mused. “Any relation to Cormac Tate, the school principal?”

  “Yeah. Oisin is his son.”

  I tackled another table, polishing the inlay of James Stewart’s face until it shone. “And you want to impress him with your running prowess?”

  Julie laughed. “Hardly. If I can manage the 5K without dying, I’m calling it a win. No, I was looking for an excuse to spend time with Oisin outside the school staffroom, so I volunteered to help organize the run. Unfortunately, volunteering is synonymous with participating.”

  I moved to Bette Davis and treated her to the same vigorous polish I’d given to James Stewart. “If you’re new to running, I suggest we train three times a week, leaving a rest day between each run.”

  “Sounds good to me,” my cousin said. “That’s what the plan I downloaded from the internet recommends.”

  “Want to start tomorrow? The student who helps on Saturdays is opening the café in the morning, and I don’t need to show up before eleven.”

  “Okay. How about meeting at nine? I could drive to Noreen’s, and we can follow a route from there.”

  “It’s a plan.” I tossed the dirty cloth over the side of the sink and washed my hands. “Thanks for bringing cookies. I couldn’t face baking after this morning’s fiasco.”

  It was Julie’s turn to grin. “I heard about the fire.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure the whole town’s heard by now.”

  “What fire?”

  I whipped around at the sound of my aunt’s voice. Noreen walked into the café, accompanied by Sister Pauline and Lenny Logan.

  “Noreen,” I exclaimed. “You should be at home in bed.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Sister Pauline said, shaking her head. “But she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Nonsense,” my aunt replied. “I’m in pain and crotchety. What I need is a distraction. Watching a film sounds like the perfect way to spend the evening.”

  “She’s drugged,” Lenny said in his stoner drawl. “She’s on those super-high-dosage codeine pills that people buy on the black market.”

  “Only mine were legally prescribed.” Noreen sniffed the air. “I smell smoke. Tell me about this fire you mentioned, Maggie. What happened while I was away?”

  I scratched the back of my neck, and a guilty flush warmed my cheeks. “There was an incident earlier today involving eggs and the smoke detectors.”

  A laugh broke through Noreen’s stern expression. “So that’s why Pauline didn’t want me to check my messages when we were on the ferry. Was any serious damage done?”

  I hung my head. “Only to my pride.”

  “Dude, I hear you’ve learned to make some killer scones.” Lenny’s bony face stretched into a wicked grin. “And Granddad says your muffins are to die for—literally.”

  “Hey, I didn’t kill anyone, okay? The scones and muffins weren’t as good as when Noreen makes them, but they were edible.” Some had been, at least. “What are you doing here this early, Lenny? I thought you said you’d be here at eight.”

  “I’m not staying. I met your aunt and Sister Pauline down at the harbor and offered to give them a lift, but I have to drop a laptop off to a friend and collect another before the Movie Club meeting starts. I’ll be back in time to help you make the cocktails.”

  “Thanks, Lenny. I appreciate it.” I checked my to-do list. “Right. Should we divide and conquer, Julie? I’ll make sure I have everything ready for the cocktails.”

  “And I’ll set out the snacks and non-alcoholic drinks,” my cousin said.

  Noreen placed her hands on her ample hips. “What am I supposed to do while you two are running the show?”

  “You are going to sit down and relax.” I pointed to a seat.

  My aunt grunted but sat.

  Sister Pauline patted her on the arm. “I’ll make you a nice cup of tea, Noreen.”

  “Could you bring me a glass of water to swallow my painkillers?” My aunt stifled a yawn. She was more tired than she was admitting.

  “You shouldn’t take them again for another hour.” Sister Pauline turned to me. “She’s supposed to take two pills of Solpodol no more than four times a day for the next three days. The hospital gave her the exact number of pills to last her until she sees the dentist on Monday for a post-op checkup. Can you make sure she takes the painkillers at the correct intervals?”

  “Sure,” I said and reached for the container.

  “I’m not a child,” my aunt snapped. “I can manage my own medicine, thank you very much.”

  Sister Pauline and I exchanged an oh-well-we-tried glance, and I handed the container back to my aunt. “Just make sure you don’t OD. That’s a crazy-high dose of codeine.”

  Lenny consulted his watch. “I’d better make tracks. I’ll be back in half an hour to set up the film equipment and help Maggie.”

  “Lenny is responsible for the tech side of things,” Noreen explained after Lenny left. “If it weren’t for his technical expertise, I’d be lost.”

  “I’m looking forward to the movie. Your Movie Club idea is genius.” After the stress of burning scones and making bad tea, unwinding in front of an old movie sounded like bliss.

  “Ah, well,” Noreen said. “Not much exciting happens on the island, so we try to make our own fun.”

  “I’m perfectly happy to roll with the easy rhythm of life on Whisper Island.”

  Noreen nodded, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Excellent. I was worried you might get bored.”


  “Oh, no. After the emotional roller coaster of the last few weeks, Whisper Island’s lack of drama is what I need.” I surveyed the café and nodded in satisfaction. Julie and I had done a good job getting the place ready for our guests. I held up an empty cocktail glass and grinned. “Who wants to be the first to try one of my cocktails?”

  5

  Before the club members started to arrive, Julie and I went into the café’s restroom, slipped into our evening gowns, and did our hair and makeup. Hanging out with my cousin was just like old times. We hadn’t kept in touch as much as I’d have liked, but we slipped right back into our easy friendship.

  I applied a final coating of scarlet lipstick and stood back to examine my figure in the mirror. Not too bad, if I did say so myself. The red sequined gown was one of the two I couldn’t bear to part with when I’d had to sell my clothes after the breakup. It brought out the rich red of my long curly hair and offset my blue eyes. In addition to the dress, I’d salvaged a matching clutch purse and a pair of sparkly stilettos that Joe had hated me wearing because they made me taller than him. Judging by the tightness in the waist area, I needed to lose a few pounds, but the extra weight had the advantage of increasing my cleavage.

  “You look gorgeous, Maggie.”

  I turned my attention to my cousin. Her tawny-colored dress brought out the auburn in her hair. “Same back at you.” I glanced at my watch. “I guess I’d better get out there and start shaking cocktails.”

  By eight o’clock, my arms were ready to fall off from all the cocktails I’d shaken. My aunt was drowsy after her surgery, but noticeably less grumpy than she’d been when she’d arrived back on the island. At fifteen minutes past eight, Lenny burst into the café, wearing a harassed expression and wrangling a box full of gadgets. Sandra Walker followed smugly on his heels.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Lenny said to me, keeping his voice low. “Sandra waylaid me outside my dad’s shop and insisted on me giving her a lift back to her house to collect her laptop. I don’t know why she’s making such a fuss. You’d swear she had state secrets on that thing.”

  “Sandra likes drama,” I said, “her own and other people’s.”

  “Crying out loud. All she needs is a new RAM chip. I said I’d get to it tomorrow.” Lenny slipped off his frayed denim jacket, revealing a tux underneath.

  “Looking good, Lenny.”

  He gave me a quick appraisal that was purely platonic. “You’re not looking too bad yourself, Maggie.”

  I beamed. “Thank you.” Although I preferred casual wear, having an excuse to dress up was fun.

  Lenny scanned the pile of chopped fruit and liquor bottles. “Okay. I need instructions. What are we making?”

  I handed him the cocktail menu. “In keeping with the Fifties theme, I went with three authentic Fifties-style cocktails and one cheat. We have a Sidecar, a Tom Collins, a Pink Squirrel, and my personal fave, a Peppermint Cream.”

  “Whoa,” Lenny said. “Lots of crème de something ingredients on this list. I’ve heard of the first three, but the Peppermint Cream is new to me.”

  “Trust me, it’s delicious.” I’d started making Peppermint Creams for Joe’s cocktail parties with his attorney friends, and they’d always proved to be a hit.

  Julie carried a tray of clean cocktail glasses to the counter. “What’s in the peppermint cocktail? I’m thinking of trying one.”

  “A dash of milk, crème de menthe, white crème de cacao, hazelnut cream liqueur, and Baileys Irish Cream.”

  My cousin’s eyes widened, and she handed me a cocktail glass. “Sold.”

  I laughed. “Coming right up.”

  “I’d like a Peppermint Cream as well,” Sandra Walker said, bustling over to the counter. “And Sister Pauline wants a Tom Collins.”

  Lenny reached for a cocktail shaker. “You mix the peppermint drinks, Maggie, and I’ll take care of the others.”

  Lenny and I mixed drink after drink, while Julie made sure everyone was supplied with mineral water, sandwiches, and snacks. My gaze drifted over the crowd. Philomena, Julie’s mother, waved to me from the corner, where she was wedged between the Spinsters and the Two Gerries. Joan Sweetman chatted with a sporty-looking woman in her fifties, who I recognized as Lenny’s mother, Linda Logan. Cormac Tate, Julie’s boss, was talking golf with James Greer, Paul’s father. More faces drifted past, some familiar, others strangers. The fireman, Tom Ahearn, ordered drinks for himself and his sour-faced wife, Rita. A chatty woman with freckles introduced herself as Brid and insisted we’d played together as children. Maybe we had. I’d have to ask Julie. The attendee who stood out was a disheveled blond guy wearing a battered German Army jacket and military boots. If this was his costume for the night, he’d dressed up for the wrong movie.

  Uncle John, Philomena’s husband, appeared at the counter, a grin stretched across his broad face. He had less hair than I remembered but otherwise looked the very same. John shook my hand heartily, crushing it so hard I thought it would break. “Great to see you again, Maggie. Julie is delighted to have someone her own age to hang out with. There aren’t many young people left on the island.”

  “It’s good to be here,” I said, and meant it. “It’s been too long. Can I get you a drink?”

  After I’d served my uncle a Tom Collins and a Peppermint Cream, I flexed my aching shoulders and turned to Lenny. “You weren’t joking when you said the Movie Club nights were busy. I expected maybe ten people, but there’s more like thirty tonight.”

  “They don’t all show up to every meeting,” Lenny replied, “but film nights attract a crowd. The Hitchcock series we’ve been running is pretty popular.”

  “I’m relieved for my aunt. She said business is slow in the winter.”

  Lenny poured a Sidecar into a glass frosted with sugar. “Business is slow everywhere on Whisper Island this time of year. It is what it is, and some businesses are more affected than others. My parents’ electronics shop does a steady trade all year. If they feel the pinch, it’s because of online shopping, not the lack of tourists.”

  The bell above the door jangled. I glanced up and sucked in a breath. Paul Greer strode in, looking dapper in a three-piece suit. His fair hair was slicked back from his forehead, emphasizing his movie star good looks. My gaze moved to the woman on his arm. Despite my best intentions, a surge of pure jealousy rushed through my veins. The years had been kind to Melanie. My spiteful side had pictured her plump and haggard after bearing four children, but she was slim and elegant on Paul’s arm, and just as beautiful as she’d been when Paul had cheated on me with her.

  Lenny removed the Peppermint Cream cocktail I’d just placed on a tray and shoved it my way. “This one’s for you. You look like you need it.”

  “Thanks, but I’m driving.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “So only drink half of it.”

  “One mouthful.” I took a sip, and the frothy goodness temporarily distracted me from dwelling on all that I hadn’t accomplished in the decade since I’d last encountered Paul and Melanie. After all, why should I care what they thought of me? Why should it matter that Paul hadn’t developed a beer gut, and Melanie hadn’t turned into a hag?

  “Maggie.” Sandra Walker’s high-pitched tone sliced through my reverie with cutting edge precision. She staggered over to the counter and waved her empty cocktail glass in front of my face. “I’ll have another of those mint thingies. You’ll have to give me the recipe. I’m sure I can improve it.”

  Lenny choked back a laugh. I struggled to keep a straight face but took Sandra’s cocktail glass. Judging by the woman’s glassy eyes and the slight slur in her voice, she was drunk—or well on her way to achieving that state.

  I mixed her a fresh Peppermint Cream and handed her back her glass. “Slow down on these. They’re stronger than they taste.”

  Sandra swayed on the spot. “I can handle my drink,” she said, enunciating every syllable. “Unlike some people I could mention.” With a spiteful sneer at the crowd,
Sandra staggered in the direction of her daughter and son-in-law.

  I exchanged a glance with Lenny. “She’s drunk.”

  “I don’t remember seeing Sandra drunk before,” Lenny said cheerfully. “It’s kind of fun watching her struggle to stand straight.”

  Noreen bustled over to the bar, a tray of dirty glasses in her arms. “I’ll bring these through to the kitchen.”

  “You should be taking it easy,” I admonished, removing the tray from her clutches.

  “I like to keep busy,” she replied in a sulky tone. “Besides, it’s time for me to take my next dose of painkillers. I want to get them down before the film starts.”

  “I’ll deal with the dirty glasses.” Lenny took the tray and disappeared into the kitchen.

  I poured my aunt a glass of water and slid it across the counter.

  As she rummaged in her purse, a crease formed between her brows. “I could have sworn I had more pills in this container the last time I looked.” She shook her head and dropped two onto her palm. “That last dose must have hit me harder than I thought.”

  “If you need me to drive you home early, just say the word,” I said. “I’ve only had half a cocktail.”

  “I’ll be fine, love.” Noreen swallowed her medicine and drained her water glass. “I’m looking forward to watching the film. Speaking of which, it’s time for me to ring the bell and get everyone into the movie theater.”

  Although this was my third or fourth time watching Dial M for Murder, the experience of watching it in an old movie theater enhanced both the Fifties setting and the atmosphere of suspense. Once the credits rolled, the satisfied audience filed out of the theater, bringing their empty cocktail glasses with them. Noreen caught up with me at the doors, where I was thanking club members for attending. Her face was pale and drawn, and she looked every day of her fifty-six years. “Want me to drive you home?” I asked her. “I can come back and clean up after.”

  My aunt shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve hung on this long. Another half hour won’t kill me. Can you check to see if everyone is out of the theater?”