Brewing Death

by P. D. Workman

  Orange Blossom followed Erin, mrrowing inquiringly. Erin turned and waited for him to catch up to her.

  “No more treats,” she told him. “It’s bedtime. I may not have gotten my day of rest today, but tomorrow is a new week anyway, so I’d better get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

  She looked in on Marshmallow, then brushed her teeth and climbed into bed.

  “That Joelle wasn’t a very nice person. I’m not saying I’m happy that anyone is dead, but I’m glad that she’s not around anymore.”

  Erin’s ears pricked. She looked up to see who was talking. It was a busy time of day, and she couldn’t stop to gossip with anyone, but she couldn’t help overhearing the words.

  It was Melissa talking to Charley. Erin was surprised to see Charley up and around in the morning; usually, she acted like any time before noon was too early to be expecting people to be awake. But there she was, not only up, but dressed professionally instead of in blue jeans and a t-shirt. She saw Erin’s surprised look.

  “I do clean up pretty good.”

  “No, it’s not that… I mean, partly that, but I didn’t even expect to see you up yet.”

  “It wouldn’t be my first choice,” Charley agreed. “But I have an appointment with the estate lawyers, and with Sheriff Wilmot again. I don’t know why he can’t get it through his head that I didn’t want Joelle dead.” Charley cast a glance at Melissa. “I could have gotten her to help convince Davis to agree to open The Bake Shoppe again. Without her, I’ve got no in. I can’t even get onto his visitor list at the prison.”

  Erin looked at Melissa, who didn’t offer that she was on Davis’s visitor list. Erin kept quiet about it.

  “I’m sure the sheriff is just trying to cover all of the bases,” Erin said. “I doubt if he has a lot of experience in investigating a death like this.”

  “Still, it shouldn’t be that hard to understand that I wouldn’t kill someone who I benefited more from alive. Besides the fact that I don’t have any expertise in poisons or any of the herbs he’s talking about. He could be speaking Greek, that’s how much sense it makes to me. I was never interested in cooking or gardening or medicine. So why would I know anything about poultices?”

  Charley gazed into the display case, holding up the line of customers behind her as she chattered on, ignoring them.

  “I don’t even know what a poultice is. I mean, I get it, you put this goop on someone’s injury to help it to heal, but… how you make it or what you put in it, how you get it to stay on them, how long you keep it there… I don’t know any of that kind of stuff. Basic stuff you’d have to know if you were going to poison someone with one. And I never knew you could poison someone through their skin. On TV, it’s always a pill or an injection or something mixed into their drink. I don’t have any experience with that kind of thing.”

  “Haven’t you ever had poison ivy?” Melissa challenged.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t actually poison you. You just get itchy, you don’t die. I didn’t know that you could put something on someone’s skin that would kill them.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Of course you can. They can give you nicotine or other medications in a patch. That’s just like a poultice… except not so messy…”

  Charley picked out a muffin, and Erin rang it up for her and collected her money. She didn’t look directly at Melissa. “Do you know a lot about poultices?”

  “My grandma was sort of a healer,” Melissa said. “I mean, she mostly did prayers or the laying on of hands, but she did use herbal treatments as well. Back then, everyone knew how to make a mustard plaster or other kinds of applications. It was just passed along in families.”

  “So your grandma passed it on to you?”

  “No, not really. She was too old to still be practicing when I was a kid. I mean, she seemed like she was really old. I suppose she was only seventy and not a hundred, but I had in my mind that she was about a hundred. Too old to be doing anything.”

  “Did she talk about it? Try to teach you any of the old lore?”

  Melissa had Vic package up some fudge for her. She didn’t look directly at Erin as she paid for it.

  “I told you, she was too old. She might have talked about it sometimes, but I never listened. All of that stuff was out of date. We were using modern medicine. Science. Not grass and bark and stuff that should just be thrown in the compost heap.”

  Erin nodded. Melissa’s tone didn’t give Erin any indication that Melissa was trying to deceive her. But Erin had caught her lying before and never had figured out any of Melissa’s ‘tells.’ Some people could fool even themselves into thinking they were telling the truth, and maybe Melissa was one of those people. Someone who just redefined history to be what they felt like it should be. Melissa liked to be the center of attention, and never seemed as happy as when she was in the spotlight.

  “It’s too bad all of that knowledge went to waste,” Erin said. “I imagine she knew a lot that could really be helpful today.”

  “I don’t know. Was any of that stuff actually effective?” Melissa shrugged. “People don’t really believe in these old-school remedies like they used to. They’re almost always just snake oil.”

  Charley appeared to be waiting for Melissa to finish so they could walk together. Were Charley and Melissa friends now? Did Charley know that Melissa was another ‘in’ with Davis? Other people must know about Melissa’s past relationship with Davis, and about her going to the prison to visit him in recent days. Some of them would have been around when Melissa and Davis were going to school. They would have seen it with their own eyes. A few well-placed questions, and Charley would know everything she needed to.

  Melissa clutched her bag of fudge and followed Melissa out of the shop. Erin could hear her already starting to complain again about how the sheriff just didn’t understand that Charley had wanted Joelle to help her out and it was extremely inconvenient for her to have died.

  Chapter 22

  They were all together again, and the mood in Erin’s little house was almost festive as the four friends gathered around for an evening snack and to catch up with each other. Vic had agreed to start seeing Willie again, and he was beaming. Hearing that Willie was going to be over, Terry had agreed that he would pop by as well, and the four of them could have a little party.

  It wasn’t really a party. There were no balloons or streamers or wine. It was a different kind of a celebration. There might not be any decorations or cake, but there were rolls made fewer than twenty-four hours before, and Jam Lady jams, and they were just as sweet as cake and everyone could choose their favorites.

  As Erin got the jars out of the fridge to put onto the counter, there was a tap at the back door. She turned to see Adele.

  “Are you busy?” Adele asked, her eyes following the noise of chatter out to the living room. “You’ve got people over.”

  “Just the usual crowd. The more the merrier.”

  “Except I’m sort of a third wheel,” Adele said. “A fifth wheel.” She laughed.

  “No, really, you’re just as welcome here as anyone else. It’s a few days since I saw you. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, just fine. I know things have been a little disrupted in town, but in my little cottage… everything is nice and quiet. The way I like it.” Adele looked around. “Drinks? Shall I make some tea?”

  “Sure. Sounds good. Nothing that is going to keep me up, though.”

  Adele shook her head. “No. Something soothing to help you sleep.”

  “Vic’s been having trouble sleeping since—she’s been having trouble sleeping lately, but I guess she wouldn’t let you give her anything for it. You know how she is about your ‘potions.’”

  Adele chuckled. She moved around the room, getting the kettle out and checking the cupboards to see what varieties of commercial teas, herbs, and other ingredients Erin had kept for herself.

  “Erin, come watch this!”

  Erin turned at Vic’s call from
the living room. She was laughing hard, giddy. Erin guessed that just the relief of having Willie back in her life was enough to make her act a little silly. She went out to the living room to see what Vic wanted to show her.

  “Willie brought this laser pointer,” Vic said, pressing the button to turn it on, so that a bright red dot suddenly appeared on the floor. Orange Blossom eyed it hungrily, his body crouched and tense. Vic wiggled it around enticingly, making the dot run around the floor. Every time it disappeared from Orange Blossom’s sight, the cat ran forward to spot it again. Several times, he tried to pounce on it, going wild when it just jumped on top of his paws when he expected to catch it underneath them. He yipped in protest and jumped from place to place, panting with the exertion of trying to catch the shiny red dot.

  “That’s hilarious,” Erin agreed. It was funny, but she wasn’t nearly as giggly as Vic was over the cat’s antics. “Now let me finish getting everything ready out here, or the buns are going to be cold or dry before we even start.

  “Go ahead,” Vic agreed. “Sorry, I just thought you would want to see. He’s so funny!”

  “He is,” Erin said. “Silly cat.”

  She went back out to the kitchen and continued to get things ready. She warmed the rolls gently and opened the jars of jam, including the new batch of wild strawberries that everyone was raving about. The jar top didn’t pop like they usually did, and she looked at it carefully to make sure it was okay. It might not have formed a proper seal, but it was fresh enough that even if it hadn’t sealed during canning, it wouldn’t be spoiled yet.

  She checked the surface of the jam anyway to make sure there was no discoloration and saw that someone had already used the jam. It was no wonder the seal hadn’t popped. Somebody had already opened it and taken some of the jam. Probably Vic had grabbed a midnight snack without Erin even realizing she’d been around. Although Vic had her own kitchenette, she and Erin usually ate together, and there wasn’t much worth mentioning in Vic’s fridge. She knew the burglar alarm code and knew she was welcome to use what she wanted to from Erin’s kitchen any time.

  “What was she doing to the cat?” Adele asked.

  Erin startled and looked at her. “I almost forgot you were there, you’re so quiet. Just teasing him with a laser pointer. Making him chase the light.”

  Adele nodded. “We used to use flashlights, but laser pointers work much better.”

  “It is pretty funny.” Erin glanced toward the living room as Vic burst out in another fit of laughter. “But I don’t know if it’s that funny!”

  The kettle was singing, so Adele took it off of the burner. “Does anyone else want tea?” she called toward the living room.

  The laughter quieted, but there were no takers. Adele shrugged at Erin. “Their loss.”

  Erin finished putting everything on the table. “Okay, bread’s on. Come on in!”

  The kitchen was full of friends and the smell of bread and jam and spiced orange tea.

  “Mmm,” Vic held Erin’s cup up to her nose. “That smells really good!”

  “Did you want some?” Adele asked.

  “No… thanks.” Vic put the cup down and focused on the bread and jam. Everyone picked out their favorites and started to eat.

  Erin helped herself to generous amounts of the new-batch strawberry jam before anyone else could. Vic had already helped herself to some and Erin wanted to make sure she got her fair share.

  She had a couple of bites of bread and jam, then took a sip of the tantalizing-smelling spiced orange tea. Cinnamon and cloves and maybe just a hint of ginger? Sweetened with a little honey. Erin nodded approvingly at Adele. “That’s really good.”

  Everyone was quiet for a few minutes while they ate the rolls. Erin took a second bite of her bun, savoring the sweet jam. But there was something that wasn’t quite right. A slightly off taste that shouldn’t have been there. Erin sniffed at the jam, trying to identify it. Maybe it had started to go off because it hadn’t been sealed properly? Or maybe there was an ingredient in the jam that she wasn’t expecting, like an artificial sweetener. Erin picked up the jar of strawberry jam to see if it was labeled sugar-free, but it wasn’t.

  “Is something wrong?” Vic asked, mouth full. She giggled and covered her mouth.

  Erin took another sip of her tea, rinsing her palate, and took another bite of the jam smeared on the warm roll. The main taste was strawberry. But there was something else underneath it. Something like tomatoes? It wasn’t unpleasant, it just seemed out of place.

  “Erin?” Terry was looking at her, frown lines forming between his brows.

  “What did you say?” Erin’s mouth was dry. She took another sip of tea. She was glad it had ginger in it, because she was starting to feel a little nauseated. She wiped sweat from her forehead and took a couple of deep breaths to settle her stomach.

  “You’re not looking so good,” Willie observed. He left his seat and walked around the table to take her hand, feeling her wrist for her pulse. “Talk to me, Erin. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine… just… little icky…” Erin held on to the edge of the table because the room seemed to be shifting and tossing like a boat.

  “Maybe she should lie down,” Vic suggested.

  “No… I don’t think so. Erin, can you get to the car?”

  “Don’t think I can drive,” Erin murmured.

  “No, I don’t want you to drive. I just want to get you into the car. Come on.” He helped Erin to her feet. She wasn’t quite sure why he was being so insistent.

  “Just a little dizzy.”

  His strong arm was around her, hurrying her along much faster than she wanted to move. He was practically sweeping her off her feet. It was Vic he was supposed to sweep off of her feet. Erin tried to laugh and tell him that, but the words got stuck and she couldn’t get them out.

  “Terry,” Willie said urgently, as the policeman followed him to the living room. Willie’s body turned slightly as he looked back into the kitchen at Vic and Adele. “Crime scene. Don’t let anyone touch any more of the food or drink in there. Get samples of everything. Right away.”

  “You don’t think…?”

  “I do. She was just fine until she started eating. Whatever it is, it’s working fast, and I need to get her to help before it’s too late.”

  “Wait—”

  “No. I’ll be in touch. Seconds count.”

  Willie hustled Erin out of the house and into Terry’s truck. He threw her into the seat like a rag doll and hurried around to the other side of the truck to get in and drive. After turning the key in the ignition, his hands flew over the controls as if he knew exactly what he was doing, and Erin heard the siren start. She closed her eyes, but even with them shut, she could see bright pulses of light. She tried to tell Willie to turn them off, but he ignored her.

  “Just stay with me, Erin. Who is going to bake us treats if you are gone? Tell me you’re not going to leave me at the mercy of your sister!”

  Erin tried to answer him. The words didn’t come out as anything resembling speech. Erin couldn’t figure out why nothing was working. She’d had strawberry tea and orange jam. Or orange tea and strawberry jam. Nothing that she was allergic too. She should be able to just get up and walk away.

  But she was still in the truck, and even if she tried, she couldn’t open the door and walk away. She felt like she was floating, suspended in the air.

  Once they were out of town, she could hear the truck engine straining as they raced down the highway. She knew Willie must have the gas pedal pushed to the floor. She didn’t want to know how fast they were actually going.

  But chances were, he was not going to get pulled over for speeding! Not unless Terry decided to prosecute him for stealing the police vehicle. Erin’s thoughts were growing jumbled. Had Terry given Willie the keys? If not, then how was Willie driving the truck? Maybe Erin was confused, and they were in Willie’s truck. Maybe the siren was following them rather than coming from their ride.


  “How do you always get yourself into the middle of these situations, Erin?” Willie demanded. “Why is it everyone is always trying to burn down your house, run you down, hit you over the head, or poison you? Did you ever stop to think about that?”

  It wasn’t her fault. It was Bald Eagle Falls. Erin had never had her life threatened before that. Not seriously. She’d dealt with people who wanted to hurt her in other ways or been in other dangerous situations, but it was different from what she had gone through since she had moved out to the middle of nowhere determined to start her own bakery. And that had all started with Angela’s death. If it weren’t for Angela, everything would have been fine.

  Erin tried to push herself up in her seat. Her body was unaccountably uncooperative. It was difficult just to move, forget trying to shift her own weight.

  “How are you feeling? Okay, Erin?”

  Erin managed a little moan.

  “Try to talk to me. Try to focus on what I’m saying.”

  She wished he’d put music on the radio instead of expecting her to carry on a conversation.

  Willie started to sing. Erin was annoyed. If there was one thing that was worse than trying to talk when she was sick, it was having to listen to improvised karaoke from someone who didn’t have the talent for it. When she moaned again, Willie just sang louder.

  She didn’t know how long it took to get to the city. It seemed like an eternity. Willie didn’t need to ask for directions or turn on the GPS in the truck, he navigated directly to the hospital without any help. Erin was looking forward to being able to lie down and relax. It was late, and she should be going to bed if she were going to get to the bakery in the morning.

  Willie opened the door beside Erin, and she nearly fell out. Willie didn’t try to make Erin walk, but simply scooped her up in his arms and walked briskly into the hospital.

  “I need help!” he shouted. “Poisoning victim. She needs treatment right away!”

  There were doctors or nurses and hospital staff. Erin was soon on a gurney and hooked up to several monitors. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out all of the noise.