Give Murder A Hand: Lizzie. Book 2 (The Westport Mysteries) (9 page)

We went inside and I followed her to a table at the back of the
room. The café was quite sweet really, decorated in French provincial style
quite popular at the moment. The smells drifting out from the kitchen made my
stomach rumble. I remembered I had actually missed breakfast this morning as my
stomach had been churned up at the thought of my meeting with Allison.

Sitting down, we picked up our menus and I took the moment to study
her close up. It bothered me that I recognized her from somewhere but couldn’t remember
where.

“You know, Allison I’m sure I know you from somewhere,” I said.

“Really? I wouldn’t know where.” She looked at me and smiled
innocently.

I had a sneaking suspicion she did know where but didn’t want to
say. “It’ll come to me. It always does. Probably late at night when I’m trying
to sleep, it’ll just randomly pop into my head.”

Allison smiled and busied herself in the menu. I looked at the menu
in my hand and the chicken burger instantly appealed to me.

“What do you feel like, Lizzie?”

“Oh the burger sounds delicious,” I replied, reading as I went. But
then so did schnitzel. And the turkey wrap. I made a note to bring Riley here
for lunch one day. He’d love the steak sandwich.

“Alright well, I’ll go and order then,” said Allison before I had a
chance to change my mind.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay for my lunch. Thanks anyway, but I can
get it.”

“No, really I insist. It’s my treat.” She stood and moved to the
counter, her tiny pony tail bouncing as she walked.

“Oh Allison, can you just check the chef doesn’t cook with peanut
oil please. I’m allergic to it.”

“Really? What sort of reaction do you have?”

“Oh, it’s not pretty. My lips swell, my tongue swells and I get all
blotchy and red.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound pleasant. Definitely no Peanut oil then.”

As she moved back up the queue, my memory stirred.

“I know!” I yelled.

“Pardon,” she said, turning back to face me.

“I know where I know you from.” I sat back in my chair and smiled. “You
were at the auction when I bought my house. I remember because I was so
impressed that you could get your hair into such a short ponytail.”

“I think you must have me confused for someone else,” she said, her
smile tight.

“No, I’m positive that it was you.”

“Really, Lizzie, I think you’re mistaken. I wasn’t at the auction. Why
would I be?”

“But ...” I petered out. I didn’t know why she would be, or why she
would lie about it. I shrugged.

Allison smiled and turned back to the queue, her posture rigid. Confused,
I looked around the café and thought back to the day of the auction—the day I
had bought my house.

I suppose I could be wrong about Allison. I mean that day was quite
stressful and I was focusing on the auctioneer. There had only been one other
registered bidder – an older gentleman who wanted it as a development site, but
I remember the woman who I thought was Allison. She’d spent the whole time
standing under the tree in the front yard, her agitation showing. The real
estate agent selling the house had told me there was another interested party,
but they hadn’t got their finances together quickly enough. You couldn’t bid at
auction unless you had the money or finance approved up front.

“Lizzie,” said Allison, calling to me from her place in the queue. I
jumped as her voice pulled me back to the present. “I think I forgot to put
money in the parking meter. Do you think you could check it for me while I
order lunch?”

I looked across the road to the car and sighed. It was now pouring
with rain. Could I just sit here and not go? Surely we could get away without
paying for parking just once?

“Please?” she called. “I have another client in less than an hour
and if I don’t order our food now we won’t get it in time.”

“Sure.” Well, there goes the straight hair.

I got up and moved to the door and stepped into the rain. By the
time I had waited for the traffic, crossed the road, saw she
had
actually put the money in the meter,
and had gotten back again, I was soaked. And freezing.

“Oh, you silly thing,” said Allison sitting back in the seat
opposite me, placing a glass of water on the table in front of me. “You’re
soaking wet.”

She was observant if nothing else. “You should have taken my
umbrella.”

Yes, I should have. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Didn’t think of that, did I?” I smiled to cover my embarrassment
caused by my own stupidity.

“Why? Why didn’t you think of that, Lizzie?” Allison placed her
elbows on the table, put her hands under her chin, and looked at me seriously.
I felt discomfited.

“Ummm ... because I’m an idiot?”

“Oh Lizzie, you’re funny. I was just joking,” she laughed, waving
her hand in front of her. “But then ... no. Just joking again.”

She laughed like she was hilarious. I didn’t find her funny at all.

“Now drink up and tell me what’s happening with that old house of
yours. Is it nearly finished?”

I spent the next five minutes sipping water, shivering against the
cold of the air conditioning and telling Allison all about my renovations,
grateful to be speaking about something I actually knew.

“I intend to sell it once it’s finished,” I said, finishing my
monologue.

“Riley tells me you’ve done an excellent job choosing the décor and
fittings.”

He did, did he? “Riley’s really kind. He’s the one doing all the
hard work and bringing the old house back to life.”

“Riley
is
really kind,” Allison
said quietly. “He’s probably the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever had the
pleasure of knowing.”

My heart stuttered as she spoke, but I was saved from responding as
our food arrived at the table. I looked at my burger, which was almost the size
of the plate and was accompanied by a pile of delicious golden chips, and my
stomach growled. I looked at Allison’s Caesar salad and felt embarrassed ... again.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She smiled, looking at my plate. “I admire
any woman who can eat like that. There’s a week’s worth of calories there.” She
laughed, but I felt the atmosphere shift and knew she was having a dig at me.

“I’m lucky like that I guess,” I said, holding my head high. “I do
of course watch my weight at times, but mostly I can eat whatever I want.” That
was a total lie. If I ate whatever I wanted, I would be about the size of my
house.

“Well enjoy it. It looks delicious,” she added.

I looked at my burger and debated which was the best way to eat it.
I couldn’t pick it up and take a bite as it would never fit in my mouth. I
lifted the top off and opted to use a knife and fork. Sure it felt a bit weird
eating a burger with a knife and fork, but if nothing else I looked a whole lot
more lady like, and Molly’s dress may make it home without beetroot dropped
down the front of it.

“Riley loved it here,” said Allison, pushing her salad onto her
fork and taking a delicate bite.

The chicken stuck in my throat.

“We used to come here all the time. The steak sandwich was his
favorite.” She smiled at the memory.

I picked up my water glass and took a gulp, trying to push the food
down my throat.

“Are you okay? You’re not choking are you?” she asked, her concern
evident on her face.

It probably wouldn’t look good if one of her clients choked to
death during a lunch date. I managed to get the chicken down, my eyes watering
as I did so. “No,” I choked. “I’m fine thanks. Just went down the wrong way.”

“Well that’s good. I’d hate to have to tell Riley that I’d killed
you with your lunch.”

Liar. You’d love it.
“Yeah, he’d be a bit upset I imagine.” I laughed unconvincingly.

“Riley would be upset, Lizzie. He’s a very sensitive man. It’s
actually one of the things I loved the most about him.” My heart stopped with
her words.

“Are you still in love with him?’ I asked, the words jumping out my
mouth before I could stop them. I held my breath and waited for her reply.

She took her time to consider her response. “It doesn’t really
matter does it? He loves you. That’s what’s important.”

She placed her hand over mine in a friendly gesture. I felt the
undertone. I wanted to question her more about it, but I honestly couldn’t find
the words. She was a threat and if she had the chance she would be back in
Riley’s life in every conceivable way.

My burger suddenly lost its appeal. I put my knife and fork down
and nibbled on a few of the chips as we finished our lunch, my end of the
conversation deliberately avoiding Riley. If only Allison had felt the same.

Instead I had to endure listening to her crunch on her salad,
reminiscing about Riley. I looked at the door and wondered if I could actually
be rude enough to leave, and how long it would take me to walk home.

Chapter Nine

It happened even before we’d finished lunch. I
could feel my lips tingling and my tongue felt funny. I picked up my water and
finished what was left in the glass.
Oh
no
. The last time I felt like this, I found out I had an allergy to peanut
oil.

Allison looked at me, her expression quizzical. “Are you alright?”
she asked.

“Umm ... not really,” I replied. “I’m feeling a bit hot.”

“Your face is covered in red blotches.”

“You did ask them about the peanut oil, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. Do you think you are you having an allergic
reaction?”

I hoped not, but within minutes my lips had swollen to the point where
they hurt, and my tongue was so swollen I could no longer speak properly. Tears
stung my eyes as I struggled to control my breathing and not panic.

“Oh,” I heard Allison say. She grabbed at a passing waiter. “Excuse
me, but this woman is having an allergic reaction. Can someone call for an
ambulance, please?”

She said it all very calmly. Well, I guess that was because she
wasn’t the one swelling like a puffer fish.

The waiter gave me a horrified look and rushed towards a woman
behind the counter, his arms waving towards me as he spoke. I saw her grab at
the phone.

Within seconds, chaos erupted around me. I had waiters running
about, the chef had appeared, and Allison was yelling at the top of her voice
about how irresponsible they were serving a dish cooked in peanut oil when she
had specifically told them I was allergic to it.

The waitress that had taken our order was in tears, shaking her
head and saying she never heard her say that.

“Of course I said it!” yelled Allison. “This poor woman could die. I’m
a doctor. Do you really think I would be that irresponsible?”

“If you’re a doctor then help her!” said the chef.

Allison glared at him. “I’m not that kind of doctor,” she said
calmly.

The last time I’d had a reaction to peanut oil, all I’d had was
swollen lips and tongue. When I breathed through my nose, I had no difficulty whatsoever.
This time I could feel my throat closing. It all happened so fast, I didn’t
even have time to panic. Seconds later, I felt weak and room faded as confusion
filled my mind. I heard a woman scream as I slipped off my chair and fell to
the floor, the world momentarily going black.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking into the face of a paramedic. He
was speaking to me in a calm voice, all the while jabbing me with a needle. I
couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I didn’t care. An oxygen mask was put
over my face as I was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled out to the waiting
ambulance.

* * *

I hated hospitals. In fact, the very thought of
having to go there made me break out in a sweat. Paramedic Jim asked me how I
was feeling. Apparently anxiety wasn’t helped by adrenalin, he told me.

Allison had followed me to the ER, and was waiting for Riley as a
team of medical staff assessed my condition. It seems that Paramedic Jim may
have saved my life by administering adrenalin just in time. They did also
recommend that from now on I carry an auto-injector so that if this ever happened
again, adrenalin could be given immediately and I’d survive without all the
drama.

Sounded simple enough, but the doctor wasn’t the one who had been
struggling to breathe. The way I figured it, even with the adrenalin auto-injector,
I’d still be freaked out enough to panic.

Thankfully, Riley arrived quickly. Just seeing his gorgeous face
made the whole experience a lot more bearable, but feeling his strong arms hold
me, the stress of the day took hold and the tears flowed.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he said, holding me tightly against his
chest.

“I ... was ... s...so ... scared,” I sobbed.

“That makes two of us,” said Allison, standing at the foot of my
bed, her grey eyes huge.

“Thank you so much for your help, Allison. I’m scared to think what
would have happened to Lizzie if you hadn’t been there.”

Really? I know things were a bit hazy and blurry at the time, but I
didn’t remember Allison doing very much to help, to be honest.

“Well, all’s well that ends well. Isn’t that what they say?” she
replied.

“Yeah, thank God.” Riley kissed the top of my head and released his
hold on me.

I didn’t want him too. Being held that tightly made me feel safe
and secure, and I wanted to stay there

Just then my curtain was pulled back and a nurse entered our
cubicle.

“Excuse me,” said Riley, addressing her. “What happens now? Does
Lizzie have to stay in for a while or can she go home?”

“She needs to stay for a few more hours just so we can keep an eye
on her vital signs. If she responds the way we think she will, she’ll be able
to go home later this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” I heard the sigh of relief leave Riley, as he smiled.

I saw her swoon but she quickly regained her composure and checked
a few machines I was hooked up to, wrote a few things down and left, leaving
the curtain open as she went. I looked up to see Paramedic Jim smiling at me.

“You’re looking much better,” he said, moving closer to my bed.

“Thanks to you, apparently.” I smiled. I didn’t really know what to
say to this man. The words
thank you
didn’t feel adequate, but they were all I had.

“Thank you,” I said, the tears welling
once again.

“You, my lovely lady, are very welcome. You had me worried there for
a minute, though. I thought we may not have got to you in time.”

“Riley, this is the man who helped Lizzie at the café,” said
Allison, smiling brightly at Jim.

Riley instantly rushed to him, his hand outstretched.

“What can I say that will convey how grateful I am?”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just happy this lovely lady is
okay,” said Jim, taking Riley’s hand.

“Well, thank you.” Riley too seemed at a loss for words.

“You stay away from peanut oil from now on, okay?” said Jim,
smiling at me. “I don’t want to see you in the back of my ambulance again
anytime soon.”

“I was staying away from it then. Or at least I thought I was.” I
looked to Allison and wondered if she had actually passed the message to the
waitress about my allergy. Of course she had. No one could be that mean.

Could they?

* * *

The rest of the week went past in a bit of a
blur as I helped Riley gut the kitchen. By the time Friday came around, I was
exhausted. Every muscle I had ached, including the muscles in my little toe. Actually,
that had more to do with the hammer I dropped on it, but Riley told me it
wasn’t broken so I sucked up the pain and hobbled around silently. Well, my
version of silent anyway.

I was just thinking about relaxing in a nice hot bath when my phone
rang. It was my brother Danny.

“Hi Danny,” I said.

“What’s happening tonight?” he asked, getting straight to the
point.

Friday night was the usual night I got together with my siblings. It
was kind of a ritual. Sure, we saw each other every Sunday at Mum’s for family
dinner night, but Friday was the night we could all get together and discuss the
subjects you couldn’t talk about in front of Mum.

“Aren’t we going to your house?”

“No. Andrew’s mum’s here and I need a night out. She’s driving me
crazy.”

I laughed. “Well, what about Molly’s? Can we go there?”

“I can’t get hold of her. What about Riley’s place? Can we meet
there?”

“Yeah, okay. He won’t be home until late because he’s got a meeting
with a client. Apparently tonight is the only night they could do it.” I
sighed. Friday nights were sacred to me. I hated it when he had to work.

“Oh, okay. Well, Andrew won’t be there either so it’s just the
three of us. We’ll have fun without them.”

“Yeah, I’ll text Molly and tell her where to be.”

“See you soon.”

After I hung up the phone and sent a message to Molly, I kissed
Riley and headed to his house for a quick clean up before my visitors arrived.

I’d only just finished when there was a knock on the door. I ran
down the stairs and opened the door to find Danny. Today he was dressed in his
usual skinny jeans, which he’d accompanied with a bright yellow t-shirt and his
hair was slicked back showing his diamond earring off to perfection. Ever
stylish was Danny.

“Wow, you’re bright today,” I commented as he handed me a bottle of
wine and pushed his way past me.

“I get sick and tired of wearing black at work so I have to make up
for it on my time off. Besides that, Andrew’s mother hates yellow and it
annoyed the hell out of her.” Danny smiled wickedly.

“I thought you liked Andrew’s mother,” I said, closing the door and
moving to the kitchen to put the wine in the fridge.

“That was before she lived with us.”

“How long is she staying for?”

“Too bloody long. It was only supposed to be for a week, but Andrew’s
concerned about her health as she’s getting a bit older now. He’s trying to
talk me into letting her live with us.” Danny followed me, sitting himself on a
stool at the kitchen bench.

I looked at him shocked. “What about his dad? Where’s he?”

“He went back home, quite happy to leave her with us for a while.”

I looked closer at Danny and for the first time saw the strain
around his eyes.

“Is she really that hard to live with?”

“You have no idea, Lizzie,” said Danny, his eyes filling with
tears. “She hates my cooking, says I can’t clean for shit, and she even
complained about the hairdo I gave her! I spent all bloody afternoon on that.”

I sucked in my breath. You could complain to Danny about a lot of
things and he would accept the criticism in the spirit it was given, but never,
ever complain about his hairdressing abilities.

“Danny, you’re an amazing hairdresser,” I said, giving him a quick
hug.

“I know! Look what I can do with your hair,” he said, flicking his
tears away.

Humph.

Before we got any further with our conversation, there was another
knock on the door. This time it was Molly.

As I stepped back to let her in, I noticed she was a bit over-dressed
for the occasion. She wore a very short dress she looked like she’d been poured
into and that barely covered her ass. Her abundant assets sat proud, ready to
give any man a heart attack. Her hair was piled high on her head, ensuring the view
of those assets was unobstructed, and her make-up was perfect, but very
overdone for a night of pizza and wine with her siblings. She kicked off her
spiked heels and barefooted it across the room towards Danny.

Danny looked up from blowing his nose and frowned. “God girl, you
look like a pole dancer.”

“Geez, thanks Danny,” she responded, glaring at him.

“You are a bit over–dressed, don’t you think?” I added.

“I’m not staying. I’m heading into the city to that new club
they’ve just opened.”

“Are you the entertainment?” asked Danny, looking at her skirt as
she pulled it a bit lower.

Molly sucked in her breath. I giggled. “No, I am
not
the entertainment!” she cried
indignantly.

I had to admit, Danny had a point. “Who’s your date?”

She turned to me, and her scowl changed to a smile. “Matt.”

“Where’s Harper?” I asked. “Don’t you want me to have him if you’re
staying in the city tonight?”

“Oh no, I’m not staying. It’s only my first date with Matt, so I
thought it would be best if I didn’t drink too much and drove home later.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to give him the wrong idea,” added Danny
sarcastically, now looking at her chest.

Molly rolled her eyes and walked back to the door, stepping into
her heels as she went.

“Well, have a good time,” I said, kissing her on the cheek and
getting a noseful of the new Roberto Cavalli perfume as I did so.

“I will,” she replied, her eyes twinkling.

After she left, Danny and I ordered a pizza, filled our wine
glasses and sat on the floor with my laptop, Googling Molly’s date Matt Wilson.
We found he was a reporter with the Westport Independent Network (WIN)
newsroom, he was thirty-four years old and had moved to Westport a year ago. Before
that he’d been working overseas.

“Why would he have left New York to move to Westport and work for
our crappy local newsroom?” asked Danny.

“I have no idea. I was actually wondering if I could get Molly to
ask him to do some investigating into the skeleton they dug up from my garden. Bradley
gave me some interesting information the other day about a missing person he
thinks was the original owner of the bones.”