Pushed to the Limit (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 2) (26 page)

It seemed everyone involved in running this
party disliked Tony, although she was the only one he had publicly humiliated
in front of his guests and many potential clients.

As she scurried back through the house, she
felt a sudden spasm in her abdomen and paused to press a hand to her belly. Oh
no, was she about to fall victim to this bout of poisoning too? Resting her
head against a wall, she tried to recall everything she’d ate or drank this
evening. She’d snacked on this and that, and taken a sip of a few things, too
busy to notice, her mind focused on the smooth running of the party. She
couldn’t remember any details, she realized. The only thing she was sure of was
that she hadn’t drunk any alcohol, although the toxin could have been in the
mixers or the glass or even the ice.

The spasm passed, so she forced herself to
carry on. When she reached the great room, she saw that several EMTs had
arrived and were busy assessing patients and strapping a few into gurneys. The
party atmosphere was completely ruined by now, but at least help was at hand.
Relief washed over her but quickly disappeared when she spotted the two police
officers with Tony. One was a mature-aged man perhaps in his forties whom she
didn’t recognize, while the other, a trim, neat woman under thirty, was someone
Emma wished she didn’t recognize either.

Emma didn’t believe she had many enemies.
She’d always been popular in high school and college, and generally found it
easy to make friends. She wasn’t the one who’d broken up their relationship,
that had been Steven’s doing. And it was Rowena, her business partner, who had
defrauded their clients and run off with all the money, not her. No, Emma
believed she was on the whole a nice person. But even the nicest person could
have a nemesis, and for her that nemesis was Sherilee Ackerman. Emma could
never pinpoint exactly why she and Sherilee didn’t get along, but ever since
middle school when Emma had accidently bumped off Sherilee as class president,
they had never seen eye to eye.

Twelve years on the east coast meant Emma
had virtually forgotten about Sherrilee until, two weeks after her return to
Greenville, Sherilee had booked her for speeding, and the old antagonism had
sprung to life again.

Now, as Sherilee approached, there seemed
to be a glint of schadenfreude in the officer’s eyes.

“Hello, Emma,” Sherilee said coolly as she
took out notepad and pen. “Care to tell me what went wrong this evening?”

Emma’s hands curled into fists, and the
ache returned to her stomach. “I’m not sure. People just started collapsing.”
She drew in a breath. “Why are you here? I thought it was the food and health authorities’
responsibility to investigate food poisoning.”

Sherilee lifted a shoulder. “Just following
orders. Besides, this might be more than just accidental, seeing as how people
got ill so quickly. It could have been deliberate poisoning.”

Deliberate
poisoning?
That was so much worse. Emma’s stomach heaved, and sweat broke out on her brow
from the effort of keeping herself composed.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sherilee’s composed
gaze swept over Emma, making her acutely aware of her crumpled dress and her hair
coming loose from its knot. In contrast, Sherilee looked crisp and competent in
her polycotton blend police uniform. “You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine,” Emma retorted. No way did she
want Sherilee feeling sorry for her.

The officer’s gaze shifted past Emma’s
shoulder, and some of her frostiness dissolved. “Hey, Fletcher. What are you
doing here? We didn’t call in the sheriff’s department.”

Emma’s heart descended into the nauseous
whirlpool in her stomach. Could this night get even worse? Apparently, it
could. Now, not only did she have her nemesis questioning her, but her old high
school boyfriend had arrived to witness this entire debacle.

Owen Fletcher stopped in front of the two
women. For such a tall man he was surprisingly light on his feet. A deputy
sheriff with the Marion County Sheriff’s Office, he wasn’t in uniform tonight,
though his black cargo pants, dark shirt, close-cropped hair and square jaw
exuded a law enforcement air.

“Evening, Emma,” he said, grave and polite,
before turning to Sherilee, his voice lightening. “I’m not here on official
business. Mom called me to pick her up. She came with a friend, but Marcie
needs some medical attention.”

“Oh, no,” Emma blurted out. She hadn’t even
noticed Owen’s mom at the party, that was how harried she’d been. Now, she felt
even worse. She’d always liked Owen’s mom; she hoped Ingrid didn’t think she’d
been snubbing her. “I’m so sorry, Owen.”

He looked at her with a quizzical
expression. “I hear you’re the one who organized this whole shebang.”

His eyes were deep mocha brown, and once
upon a time they had lit up whenever he saw her. Now, they were wiser and
warier, but still they held a hint of sympathy, and his was the first friendly
face she’d seen in what felt like hours.

“It’s probably the last shebang I get to
organize, if Tony Barnet gets his way,” she muttered, folding her arms around
her waist.

On the other side of the room, Tony had
been monopolizing the other police officer for several minutes, talking
earnestly and a couple of times pointing accusingly in Emma’s direction. Jordan
was nowhere to be seen.

“Barnet thinks you’re responsible for
this?” Owen briefly glanced at Tony before addressing Sherilee. “That can’t be
right.”

Sherilee shrugged. “We’ve just started
investigating. We can’t jump to conclusions.”

“But Tony already has,” Emma said. “I
suppose he expects you to march me off in handcuffs.”

“I’m a professional, Emma,” Sherilee said
with just a hint of a smirk. “I won’t arrest you just because Mr. Barnet
insists you’re the culprit,”

Another painful wave twisted her stomach,
but Emma compressed her lips, determined not to show any weakness in front of
these two people.

“What, does he think I’m trying to harm
him?” she scoffed. She really had had enough of Tony Barnet and his bullying. “Honestly,
if I wanted to hurt Tony, I can think of plenty of better ways than poisoning
his guests.”

A look of alarm flickered across Owen’s
face. She was familiar with that expression. He’d always been the steady,
reliable one, whereas she’d been the reckless girlfriend leading him astray. It
was a wonder they’d ever got together in the first place.

But then her vision blurred as another
attack suddenly gripped her, and this time she couldn’t hide her agony.
Doubling up, she let out a groan as her stomach heaved ominously. Panic fogged
her brain. Her body couldn’t wait any longer to get rid of the toxins, the
nearest bathroom was miles away, and she was already responsible for the
ruining of one priceless Persian rug. She couldn’t afford another one.

So she did the only sensible thing. She
grabbed a crystal vase filled with expensive orchids and tossed the flowers to
the floor. She began to gag. Bending her head over the vase, she had no choice
but to allow her body to take over. Through her misery, she heard an outraged
yell as someone stormed up to her.

“That’s Waterford crystal, you dimwit!”
Tony Barnet screamed. “You’re puking in my Waterford crystal!”

~ END OF PREVIEW ~

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