Killer Spring

by Sonia Parin

  “Stay here, Eve.”

  “No way. I’d rather stick close to you.”

  He didn’t like it one bit. “Fine. But if I tell you to run. You run.”

  “Why would you… Never mind.”

  The house smelled musty. Eve didn’t want to judge, but someone needed to give some thought to washing the curtains and opening the windows to air out the place.

  They walked through to the kitchen. Eve stayed there to look around while Jack went into the next room.

  A stack of envelopes sat on the table alongside a ledger book.

  Who kept ledger books these days?

  Eve glanced around and didn’t see any electronic devices or gadgets.

  A stack of boxes sat in a corner, each one with a ‘blueberry’ label stuck on the side. The delivery he had been expecting?

  Eve leaned against the counter. She reached out and touched the kettle. Warm.

  “He’s been here. Maybe he stepped out.” She heard Jack murmur something. At first, she thought he might be talking to himself again, but then she realized he was talking on the phone.

  After a moment, she called out again, “Jack.”

  “Stay in the kitchen, Eve.”

  His tone sounded calm but official. Eve took a step forward only to stop. Her mind drew a blank and thank goodness for that. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions but it was inevitable as a feeling of trepidation crawled around her.

  She heard Jack walking around the room, still talking on the phone.

  A moment later, he appeared at the door.

  “Chad Burrows is gone,” he said.

  Gone?

  Didn’t he want to hear her apology? Had he changed his mind? Would he push to have her expelled from the island?

  Eve tried to entertain a myriad of possibilities other than the obvious one.

  Taking a deep swallow, she asked, “Gone fishing?”

  “You should go wait in the car, Eve. I need to look around.”

  She walked up to him. “I guess that means he didn’t go fishing.”

  “No. His fishing days are over.”

  “Would it be fair to assume he also hasn’t packed up and left?”

  “Are you all right, Eve?”

  “I’m working up to asking the obvious question.”

  “He’s dead, Eve.”

  Eve took a step and stopped. “Is it bad?”

  “Bad enough.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I won’t know for sure until the coroner arrives. It looks like anaphylactic shock.”

  The sound of approaching sirens filled the room.

  “Is that an ambulance I hear?”

  He nodded. “Are you sure you’re all right, Eve?”

  If Jack thought Chad Burrows had died from anaphylactic shock, then the signs would have to be obvious.

  Swollen face, lips… eyes…

  Not a pretty sight, she thought.

  Eve took a deep swallow. “Do you think it might have been a bee?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll know soon enough but I’m guessing he was allergic to something… Maybe peanuts.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He’d been eating cake.”

  Chapter Seven

  A piece of cake

  Eve checked her watch. Thirty-five minutes of silence. She had been sitting in Jack’s car for that long without a single murmur or mutter passing her lips.

  Chad Burrows.

  Dead.

  Her mind had emptied, leaving a hollow shell full of silence.

  When the coroner arrived, Jack had urged her to wait in the car. Eve hadn’t argued. Along the way, she had encountered several police officers arriving on the scene. Keeping her eyes to the ground, she had avoided eye contact. She remembered checking the time and wondering how long she had until she could tell Jack about the cake.

  She should have told him right then and there. In her defense, she had been about to, but she had been too stunned to even speak.

  She hadn’t seen the body and yet, she had stilled. Her feet had felt like dead weights keeping her nailed to the spot.

  In just about every episode of her favorite police tv show, if a woman found a dead body, she screamed.

  She’d had the misfortune of finding a couple of bodies and she hadn’t screamed. In fact, if she remembered correctly, her throat had clogged up.

  Natural curiosity had pushed her to take a look but common sense had prevailed. She didn’t need to look at a dead body bloated from a bad reaction to…

  Her eyes widened. “Good heavens. I killed Chad Burrows.”

  She checked her watch again. The plain admission had finally hit her forty minutes after hearing the news.

  “Talk about delayed reaction.”

  She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Especially not if it meant pointing the finger of both suspicion and accusation at herself.

  Also, she didn’t really have enough information to reach even a hasty conclusion.

  She wondered if Jack had found anything to trigger his suspicions of foul play.

  Seeing the front door open, she leaned forward and saw Jack coming out. He stood on the porch looking across at the sea and the island beyond.

  In a couple of minutes, he would approach the car. When she told him about the cake, she would have to explain.

  Eve tried to find the right words to use for her admission. She could ease into it. Or maybe she should blurt it out. Yes, Jack would expect her to blurt it out and accept full responsibility. That’s what the Eve Lloyd he knew would do.

  She reached for the door handle only to change her mind when she saw him take out his phone to make a call.

  Detective Jack Bradford… on the phone. That could mean anything. Jack would want to know where the cake had come from. He already suspected Chad Burrows had died from anaphylactic shock so he would want to make sure.

  The coroner stepped out of the house and waited for Jack to finish his call. When he did, they both stood there talking.

  Eve wished she had spent her spare time wisely by learning to read lips. Regardless, she could imagine Jack asking the coroner to be thorough.

  If Chad had suffered from an allergy, Jack would need to know. He’d spent some time examining the scene. Had he found an epinephrine injection?

  Chad had been in his thirties. If he’d had an allergy, he would have known about it and he would have been prepared.

  Belatedly, she wished she’d had a quick look at the scene.

  Eve scooped in a breath. “This is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.” Oh, why hadn’t she told him? When Jack had mentioned the cake, her first instinct had been to fall silent. It had actually been more of a knee jerk response. She hoped he didn’t hold it against her.

  What were the chances her cake had caused Chad Burrows’ fatal reaction?

  Had it been her cake?

  Eve worried her bottom lip. A scene unfolded in her mind. She saw Chad returning home. When he saw the cake, he picked it up and had a whiff of it. Smelling the banana, he grimaced and dumped the cake in the trash. Then… he went to the pantry and got another cake.

  Eve groaned.

  If Jack believed Chad Burrows had died of an allergic reaction, she saw no point in doubting him.

  She kept her eyes pinned on him and urged him to wrap up the conversation with the coroner.

  The sooner she told him about the cake, the better she would feel.

  Finally, he made his way to the car, his expression grim.

  Eve panicked. What if he had found out about her bringing Chad the cake before she had the opportunity to tell him about it? She needed him to hear it from her first…

  He opened the driver’s door and jumped in. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He leaned over and clicked her seat belt into place. “The coroner agrees about the anaphylactic shock as a possible cause of death, but we’ll have to wait for the tests to come through.” Jack sat back and closed his eyes
for a moment.

  “Jack.” Eve took a deep swallow. “What sort of cake was it?”

  He turned to look at her. “Why do you ask?” Straightening, he said, “Hang on. You’d know how peanuts get into a cake other than the obvious way.”

  Peanuts.

  Eve nodded. “Some people use peanut oil for baking.”

  “Do you?”

  He knew. He knew…

  Eve shook her head. In the next breath, she brightened.

  She didn’t use peanut oil. So, it could not have been her cake. “So, what sort of cake was it?”

  “I’ve no idea. It looked… brownish. Then again, all cakes look brown to me.”

  “Did it have icing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it rectangular?”

  He nodded.

  “Jack, there’s something I need to tell you.” Eve rubbed her face with her good hand and sighed.

  What if it had been another cake? Why complicate matters? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the results? If it turned out to be an allergy to peanuts, then her cake wouldn’t be responsible.

  “Jack… I baked a cake… And, I brought it over… As a peace offering.”

  Jack froze. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned the key in the ignition and reversed out of the driveway. When he reached the road, he made his turn, again without saying a word.

  Eve couldn’t tell for sure without leaning over to look, but it felt as if he might be breaking the speed limit.

  She watched the bridge getting closer and waited for Jack to say something.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. And when they had to stop at the bridge to allow another car through, he growled.

  Despite driving faster than he normally did, it seemed to take forever to reach the inn.

  “I hope you’re going to say we should wait for the results,” Eve finally said.

  When he brought the car to a stop, he sat back and stared into the distance. “Eve.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We should wait until the results come in.”

  “Don’t you want to know what I put in the cake?”

  He turned to look at her. “Did you add peanuts? The coroner said Chad Burrows was most likely allergic to them.”

  Eve gave a vigorous shake of her head. “No peanuts.”

  He released a breath that seemed to carry some relief. “I can’t think straight at the moment.” He jumped out of the car and went to open the passenger door for her. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  “Should I be worried?” Her eyes danced around his face. “The kettle was warm so he must have had a drink. Did you see a mug? Maybe there was something in the drink.”

  “We bagged several items.” He looked toward the inn. “Will you be all right?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I guess… I guess you need to go.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I know you wouldn’t knowingly or deliberately put something in a cake to cause someone you’d just had an argument with harm.”

  Eve managed to smile. “I wish you hadn’t quite put it like that. But thank you for your vote of confidence.”

  She rushed inside the inn and headed straight for the kitchen.

  “I guess that went well,” Jill said.

  Eve cringed. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Could you make me an Irish coffee, please? Be generous with the rum, please.”

  “Give it a couple of days, Eve. Chad’s a reasonable fellow. He’s probably still fuming over his argument with Wallace. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sends you a whole box of blueberries.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Did you throw in lots of sugar into your apology?” Jill nibbled the edge of her lip. “I should have made you rehearse the lines with me. If you like, we could still practice. I’m guessing you’ll also have to apologize to Wallace. He’ll be stubborn about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes you sweat a bit. Maybe Chad can put in a good word for you.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Oh, Eve. Please tell me it went well.”

  Eve took a deep swallow.

  “What did you say to him? Maybe we can work on the wording.”

  “I doubt anything I say will make a difference now. In fact, it’s too late.”

  “Oh, Eve. Maybe it was too soon. Chad is really a nice guy. How about I go with you next time? Some people are embarrassed by apologies. He might even brush it off. Honestly, if I had to vouch for him, I’d say he’s an angel.”

  Eve drew in a breath and looked heavenward. “Yeah, I’ve no doubt he’s an angel…”

  Chapter Eight

  On tenterhooks

  Eve sat in the sunroom with Mischief curled up on one side and Mr. Magoo on the other. She could hear the clink of cutlery as Jill collected the afternoon tea cups and plates.

  Feeling guilty, she made a move to get up and help but that only triggered a mournful whine from both dogs. Clearly, they had both found their comfort spot and didn’t want it disturbed.

  She stared at her cell phone and willed it to ring. How long did it take to run a test on a cake?

  If Chad Burrows had suffered from a severe allergy, even the minutest amount of peanuts would have affected him.

  Unless she was specifically using peanuts in her cooking and stating it in the menu, she went to great lengths to avoid using it. However, with anyone working in the food industry, cross contamination remained a concern. The risk existed and it took a great deal of vigilance to avoid it.

  She closed her eyes and went through her baking process. She knew exactly what Mira had in her pantry because she’d been personally responsible for stocking it.

  The flour had come straight out of a freshly opened packet so there had been no chance of peanuts getting into it. She always stored sugar in its own container and always made sure to use a separate spoon to scoop it out. The practice had been adopted from a young age. In fact, she’d been doing it well before her first apprenticeship in a restaurant and it had been a petty annoyance with her mother who had always complained about her using so many utensils to make the most basic cake.

  She’d peeled the banana and had used a clean plate and fork to mash it.

  “How on earth did the peanuts get into the cake?” she muttered.

  Did she even have peanuts in the house? Only if Mira had purchased them, she reasoned.

  Jill called out from the kitchen, “Eve, would you like another Irish coffee?”

  “No, thanks.”

  She glanced at her phone again and considered calling Jack but he’d promised to call her as soon as he had news.

  A feeling of nausea swirled around her stomach. She gave Mischief a scratch behind the ears. When Mr. Magoo shifted his head on her lap and looked up at her with a woeful expression, she gave him a scratch too.

  For the next half hour, she alternated between dogs, giving each one equal attention.

  She knew she should turn her focus to something else and there were plenty of things to do with only one hand. The menus needed to be changed. She had to call a supplier and place some orders…

  Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. “Jill, are you cooking?”

  Instead of answering her, Jill scurried over to the sunroom.

  Seeing her, Eve laughed. “What on earth? Why are you wearing goggles?”

  Jill turned her bottom lip out. “Gerard is teaching me how to chop onions.” Lowering her voice, she did a good impersonation of the young Irish chef, “No, no, no. Not like that. Like this. Tuck your fingers, lean the knife against the knuckles… I never knew he was such a stickler.”

  “It’s all in the wrist motion,” Eve offered. “Eye and hand coordination. You’ll be doing it blindfolded soon.”

  “Are you still glum about your apology?” Jill asked.

  Eve forced herself to produce a smile. She still hadn’t
told Jill about Chad Burrows’s death and she didn’t see any point in telling her. At least not until the results came in.

  “Nope. I’m well over it. There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Quite literally, she thought. “I’m feeling guilty because I’m not helping you.”

  “We need those onions, Jill,” Gerard called out.

  “Can’t you do something about him?” Jill begged.

  “Sorry, the kitchen is his domain and he’s roped you in so now you’re his lackey.”

  Left alone with her thoughts again, she wondered if she should put her affairs in order.

  Eve moaned.

  The stray thought caught her by surprise and held her captive with worst case scenarios.

  What if…

  What if she couldn’t talk her way out of this one? She couldn’t go to prison. Certainly not for a crime she hadn’t committed.

  Trying to distract herself, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her list of contacts. Maybe she should follow Jill’s advice and hire another chef. Just in case…

  She’d have to sign over power of attorney so Mira could deal with the costs of running the inn. But Mira already had enough to keep her busy.

  Biting her bottom lip, she wondered how Jill would feel about taking on the responsibility. She made a small living out of her beach scene paintings but most of her money came from working at the inn.

  What if she had to hire a lawyer? How much would that cost? This could send her bankrupt.

  The back door opened.

  Eve leaned sideways to see who had come in.

  Jack!

  She tried to gage his mood, but before she could get a proper look at his face, he turned toward the kitchen.

  Eve strained to listen to the conversation. She thought she heard Jill offering him coffee. They had a brief chat. Jack laughed at something Jill said. Eve took that as a good sign. Or was it? She didn’t hear her name mentioned. Was he already distancing himself from her?

  Several minutes ticked by. When he finally appeared at the door to the sunroom, he looked his usual relaxed self.

  Nevertheless, Eve’s heart punched against her chest.

  This didn’t look good. Or did it?